


Starlight

by Joeybelle



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Feels, Author is a complete noob in this fandom, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Foul Language, Hurt/Comfort, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pre-Rogue One, Romance, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-20
Updated: 2018-05-07
Packaged: 2018-09-18 19:53:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 22
Words: 134,569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9400640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Joeybelle/pseuds/Joeybelle
Summary: Cora's usually uneventful life as a medic on an Imperial Star Destroyer takes a new turn when a wounded rebel barges into the med bay. Could that be her ticket to freedom or will he be the death of her?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Devil in the Details (Cassian Andor x Fem!Reader)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8985274) by [themostmarvelousimagines](https://archiveofourown.org/users/themostmarvelousimagines/pseuds/themostmarvelousimagines). 



> Hi! So it's my first time posting here. I'm a little excited about finally posting something.
> 
> The fandom is rather new to me, so if you find anything that is blatantly wrong, please let me know. Some ideas, location names and technologies are inspired from other science fiction works with which I am more familiar with. I hope that won't won't ruin the story for you.
> 
> The idea for the story is borrowed from themostmarvelousimagines who's been a sweetheart to let me use it. Thanks a lot for giving me inspiration after four months of writer's block. Above is the link if you want to read the original story too. 
> 
> Special thanks to my fanfiction soulmate, Hexell, without whom none of this would ever see the light of day. Thanks for putting up with my whining and for fixing my English, and for generally being there for me. Iub.
> 
> Other than that, English isn't my native language so I struggle a bit. My thoughts are never very coherent and have the tendency to spiral into angst with everything I write. 
> 
> Enjoy!
> 
>  
> 
> [Starlight - Muse](https://youtu.be/Pgum6OT_VH8)  
> You electrify my life  
> Let's conspire to ignite  
> All the souls that would die just to feel alive

The med bay had been really silent that day, so much that even the medical droids were nowhere to be seen. It wasn’t unusual, after all the ship hadn’t been in battle for some time, forced to drift in space due to some unfortunate hyperdrive engine failure, but there was always work to be done in the infirmary, be it a flu epidemic or a plain old stomachache. The stormtroopers, as designed for battle as they were, had the tendency to turn into babies whenever they weren’t fighting, but that day no one bothered her for hours on end and Cora was starting to get bored. 

There was just so much you could do in the infirmary when you had no patients. She had already checked and sterilized the equipment twice, yelled at the droids that were moving around in circles and were giving her a headache and volunteered to stay back on the med bay while her colleagues went to get lunch, which, in retrospect was a bad idea since they had left four hours ago and didn’t seem to come back anytime soon. But the protocol stated that a sentient medic had to be in the infirmary at all times (except the cases mentioned at the points 1 to 9 in the manual which mainly meant imminent death), so someone had to take one for the team and since she was the new one… 

Cora had the feeling that her fellow medics didn’t like her very much, but it was understandable. She was new, only being on this ship for the past five months so she expected some sort of animosity towards her. You know, the new girl just out of med school, perfect scores, got her first real job because her daddy is a renowned and beloved admiral and ass kisser of the Empire in general, but sometimes the pettiness was getting to her. Like today, when they “forgot” to bring her lunch. 

Most of this was her fault anyway, since she did nothing to help them warm up towards her. They expected a spoiled, stuck-up bitch so that was exactly what they got. This was her safety blanket, in a way: if she conformed to their expectations they won’t ask any questions. She was determined to never let anyone know what was going on in her head even if that meant following the hated mantra repeated to her so many times during her teenage years: “Keep your head up high, put a smile on your face and keep your mouth shut". She was going to survive. She was a coward. 

Slouched in her chair, facing the viewport and completely lost in thought, Cora almost didn’t notice the man that had entered the room. It seemed that he hadn’t noticed her either because he barged in through the sliding glass doors and started rummaging through the medical supplies, knocking over some bottles. Cora stared at him for a few seconds before she remembered she was a doctor and this was her med bay he was assaulting.

“You’re not allowed to do that,” she said, matter of factly. That made him look up and meet her gaze. Cora froze. He was dressed in an imperial officer uniform, but he wasn’t one, she figured. There were thousands of people on this ship and there was no way she could have known them all, but he just didn’t fit the pattern. He looked unkempt, with a few strands of hair falling into his eyes and a not very well groomed beard, the uniform didn’t fit him perfectly, like it was fitted for someone with a larger frame. There was a sense of danger about him. Maybe even a tinge of desperation in his eyes and an overall feeling that he didn’t belong there. Oh, and he was pointing a blaster at her. 

“There’s no need for that,” she said and her voice surprisingly didn’t falter, even though her heart skipped a beat. “You’re in a medical facility, no one’s gonna hurt you here.” He didn’t say anything, but didn’t put the blaster down. This is how I’m gonna die, she thought. Defenceless and alone. I wonder if my dad’s gonna be disappointed. 

She kept her eyes on the stranger, waiting for him to shoot. He didn’t move, just stood there, breathing heavily. 

It took her longer than expected to notice the huge dark spot that kept growing on his uniform, but she attributed that to the shock of having a blaster pointed at her face. 

“You’re bleeding,” she said and got up from her chair as slowly as possible, her hands where he could see them. “Let me help you.”

“Why?” he asked, following her with the tip of his blaster. 

“Because you’re injured and you need help.” She remembered saying this to someone else half a year ago, just before a stormtrooper shot them in the head, but she did her best to focus on the present. He was the one with the weapon. He could kill her anytime. “At the rate I see the blood spreading on your uniform, you’re going to faint soon.” He took a peek at the blood and then went back to staring menacingly at her. “Please let me help you.” He seemed to think about it, then he nodded.

“Ok, come.” He followed her to one of the emergency rooms, blaster still pointed at her back. “Lay on the bed please,” she instructed. There was an alarm button right next to the one that called in the med droids, but she didn’t push either. She was going to tend to his wounds first, and decide later. If he doesn’t shoot you first, her mind added.

She disinfected her hands and pulled on a pair of gloves. When she turned around he was sitting on the operating table, weapon still in hands. “Take your jacket off and lie down,” she urged him as she grabbed a tray of sterile instruments and pulled a chair to his side. He unwillingly did what she said, but never let down his guard. 

The white undershirt was soaked in blood so she grabbed a pair of scissors and cut through it. Underneath was an emergency bandage that didn’t do much to stop the bleeding. She took it off to reveal a beautiful blaster wound. He had been shot before he stole the uniform. She wondered if the officer whose uniform he had stolen was the one who gave him the wound and if he was still alive. 

The wound wasn’t deep, luckily the blaster only grazed him, but it did a lot of damage nonetheless. She took the portable scanner and looked for internal bleeding. There was none, and that made her sigh in relief. Two of his ribs were severely broken though and would require surgery, but there was no time for that. She intended to help him survive, he’ll have to get surgery someplace else. Three other ribs were cracked but those would heal on their own. She had to deal with the bleeding first. 

“Are you a rebel?” she asked in a whisper, as she grabbed the disinfectant.

“What’s it to you?” he spat at her in a heavy accent so Cora used a heavier hand than it was necessary while applying the solution just to see him writhe in pain. You shouldn’t be rude to your doctor.

“Do you have a ship?” she asked more demandingly this time.

“Why do you care?” He winced. 

“Because you’re taking me out of here.” Cora was concentrated on finding the source of the bleeding, but even so she could feel the look of disbelief he threw her.

“No.” If she wasn’t mistaken, he stifled a laugh.

“Oh yeah.”

“Why would you think I’d do that?” 

Cora peeked up from his would. “Because I will die if you leave me here. When they find out I helped a rebel, well, let’s just say they’ll put up a nice show for my public execution tomorrow morning.” Cora grinned.

“And why do you think I care?” he asked, seemingly unfazed, but he looked away like he couldn’t hold her gaze. She took a deep breath and made up her mind.

She grabbed the scissors she had previously used to cut up his shirt and shoved them between his ribs, hard enough to cause him to start bleeding again, but not hard enough to cause any real damage. He screamed in pain, but one second later she felt the cold metal of the blaster touching her forehead.

“If I push these scissors I will nip an artery and you will bleed to death right on this table.”

“I will shoot you first,” he hissed. 

“You will shoot me, but it will be too late, you’ll die on this table anyway. Is it worth it?” She swallowed hard. “So let me help you and then you help me, ok?” Maybe she wasn’t supposed to die alone. Maybe she would actually kill someone before she died and the obituary will say that she died fighting rebel scum protecting the Empire. But she knew her father will still be disappointed no matter what.

“Listen, you’ll never be able to reach your ship, not with that wound. I can take you to your ship and all you have to do is to drop me off on a planet that’s not under the Empire’s occupation, and we forget this ever happened and live happily ever after.” She sighed. “Come on, you look like you’ve done worse deals than this one,” she pleaded. The blaster pushed heavily on her forehead, but she still held her head up high.

The sliding doors of the ER opened with a swift whoosh and Cora feared the worst. She was indeed going to die. The two blasts that followed made her jump from the chair and drop the scissors. Surprisingly she wasn’t dead, and neither was the rebel. She followed the line of his arm to where a med droid was standing in the doorway, broken by the laser shots. She sighed in relief, but then remembered the same blaster that destroyed the robot was the one that was touching her forehead just a moment ago. To her surprise, it didn’t return.

“Ok,” he said and his voice was weak. “You help me to the ship and I take you out of here.”

Cora sighed in relief, but the knot in her stomach didn’t subside. “Where is it?” she asked again.

“It’s in cargo.”

“Ok, cargo. We have to go down…”

What the hell was she doing? Ok, she was saving a rebel’s life, because she was a medic and that’s what medics do, they save people, and she wasn’t supposed to just look at him as he bled to death on the infirmary floor, but to run away with him? Where did she leave her resolve, her decision to survive and have and have an easy and pleasant life, away from any sort of turmoil? On Cheyne 3, she remembered and went back to work. 

Now that they had stopped fighting each other she was actually making progress with his wound. Having a med droid to help would have made things a lot faster, but seeing how the last one that tried to intervene was still releasing a tiny bit of smoke, she decided not to risk it. Besides she wasn't sure they wouldn’t snitch on her, they were still imperial droids. The rebel will have to live with her skill suturing his wound, and if he was lucky find a healing field generator on his base and heal the rest of it, otherwise it would leave behind a really ugly scar. 

She finished stitching and added a bandage that would help the healing and a brace that limited his movement and further damaging the injured area. The painkillers had kicked in a while ago so the rebel had stopped squirming, and was now lying peacefully on the bed. 

“Let’s find you some clothes,” she told him, disposing of her blood stained gloves. He got up and took off the undershirt and threw it in the bin. He followed her to the nearby changing room where she gave him the undershirt and tunic from a med tech uniform that she thought would fit him. No one would have ever taken him for medical personnel, but she hoped he could pass as one of the mechanics doing med droids maintenance. Nonetheless, she didn’t want to take any chances.

“Ok, please try to act like you belong here,” she told him, while she changed her uniform tunic to a clean one.

“What does that mean?” He didn’t seem very pleased with her remark.

“I don’t know…” she mumbled. “Try to look less…” She gave him an overall look but couldn’t put a finger on that he reminded her of.

“Less what?” He was glaring.

“Rebel?” She shrugged. “And hide the blaster, medical personnel don’t have blasters.”

He frowned but put it away. Cora went out first, and he followed her when no stormtroopers were in sight. Her heart was racing a million miles a minute. She was betraying the Empire, the only thing she’d ever known since she was born, hoping that a rebel will take her to freedom, putting all her trust in his hands. Yes, she was that naive.

She started thinking. The nearest maintenance entrance was a few hundreds of meters away. That would be the easy way, she knew the door codes, but that would mean risking being seen. She would probably be safe, but mister rebel would be spotted in no time. No, she wasn’t going to risk that. They would have to take the other route, she thought as she guided him through the corridors.

“Here,” she said when they got into a hallway that she knew was less used. She kneeled close to one of the ventilation shafts on the floor and pushed her little finger through the grill, trying to reach the closing mechanism. Luckily this was a ship that still employed this old fashioned ventilation system.

“What are you doing?” he asked in a rushed tone. 

“We’re going through the vents.”

“Are you crazy?” he whisper-shouted.

“I’m not. We have to go down three levels and I won’t risk just strutting in the cargo bay with a rebel in tow. You’re not blending in very well.” The clasp that was holding the grill in places was proving rather tricky and her pinky was starting to ache.

“Well, I’ve made it so far,” he said and Cora could feel the smugness in his voice.

“Yes, with a blaster wound an a shitton of luck. I am not betting my life on your luck.” The clasp finally gave in and the grill came off with a cling. “Alright space cowboy, get in.” She grinned maliciously. 

“You first,” he barked. 

“Ok, but you will be left here, alone, to explain to the stormtroopers what you’re doing on this ship. I’ll be long gone.” She smiled again and waved. “Get in and wait for me.” 

He glared at her again and Cora could have sworn he was close to slapping her, but he followed her order and got to his knees and then in the vent opening. Cora was really scared he wouldn’t fit, after all she stopped taking these entrances to the ventilation tunnels when she was 14 and learned how to crack the entrance codes to the maintenance shafts. She had forgotten how tight the fit could be. 

Luckily the rebel was rather slender so after a bit of forcing he got in. Cora followed, putting the grill back in its place and securing it. The vent was tall enough that they could crawl on all fours inside.

“Ok… ummm… first right, then left,” she instructed him, trying to remember the layout of the ship. He started moving and she followed, hoping she had guessed right. There was very little light in the cramped space, but Cora was used to the darkness.

She felt him disappear in the ventilation tunnel more than she saw him, and to her surprise there was a pair of arms waiting for her descent. She jumped down into what she knew was one of the main arteries of the ventilation system that was now big enough that they could easily walk inside it. But now it was pitch black. Cora spent a minute feeling the air current and listening to the engine noise trying to figure out where they were. Hoping she estimated right, she grabbed his wrist and and started walking through the darkness. The rebel followed her without any objections, after all this was her territory. Here he was blind and lost and powerless. His blaster would be useless if she decided to leave him there and start running. It would take him a few days to die, lonely, lost and miserable. She smiled at the thought that he knew this as well. His skin felt cold in her hand and she started to worry that maybe he had lost a little too much blood. Instinctively she moved her thumb looking for his pulse but he wiggled free of her grip so she was left holding his sleeve instead. Whatever, cowboy. 

At some point she started feeling the walls looking for the signs. If she was right, she should be close to her apartment. She finally found the little carvings in the tunnel wall, the ones she had made when she first started exploring those vents five months ago. They were close, really close. The tunnels, as opposed to the hallways above, were mainly straight lines so you could travel really fast from one place to another. 

“We’re here,” she announced when she reached her hiding place.

“Here where? I thought we were going down,” he said, a bit irritated. 

“And down we will go, I just need to get my bag.” She climbed up on one of the pipes sticking from the wall and took a duffel bag from where she had hidden it. 

“You need your bag? We made a detour because you need your stupid bag?” He was already pretty angry.

“Yes, do you wanna go down three levels and travel through tunnels I’ve never been through before with no light or supplies?” she asked taking a flashlight from her bag, turning it on and throwing it to him. He looked like a deer caught in the headlights and Cora felt a tinge of satisfaction. She liked taking him by surprise. It felt like payback for all the times he pointed the blaster towards her. “Take your shirt off.”

“What?”

“Take your shirt off. I wanna put you on an IV. Come here with the light,” she urged him, rummaging through her bag trying to find the right solution to stick in him.

“No,” he answered and his jaw tensed visibly.

“I have to make sure you don’t faint from the blood loss. I don’t have transfusion blood for you, but I have something just as good.” He didn’t move. “You’re with me on the long run, I can’t have you die on me in the middle of this, my life depends on yours.”

“I’m fine, let’s get going.”

“You’re not fine!” Cora almost shouted, frustrated. “Your hands are very cold and you don’t look very good to me.”

“My hands are always cold!”

“Ok fine.” Cora snapped, dropping her bag. “Be it your way. No IV. But I’m not endangering my life because you’re stubborn. I’m out of here, screaming even, telling them there’s a rebel in the ventilation system. See how long you’ll last.”

“You won’t do that. They’ll kill you too.”

“Nope.”

“You helped me.” The desperation was visible in his eyes. “They’ll kill you too.”

“I can always lie. I had to help you because you have a blaster. I took you to the vents because I knew I could lose you here and get help. Who do you think they’ll believe?” She smiled. “Shirt off and let me stick a needle in your arm.”

She could see his determination faltering and finally he took off his shirt and came to her. 

“How long will this take?”

“We would have been long gone if you’d just stop being so stubborn,” she said, wrapping the IV sleeve on his forearm, attaching the cartridge with nutrients to it and turning it on. The machine started working, finding a suitable vein in its own and starting to pump. “See? That’s it.” She closed her bag while he got dressed and they soon took off.

It was a little less eerie walking through the tunnel now that they had light, but for Cora it felt weird having someone else with her in there. Only three people had ever joined her in exploration and that was a long time ago. This was one of those things that she had only shared with a handful of people that she trusted, and now here she was, sharing her secret with a total stranger that may or may not kill her by the end of this. 

“Why does a doctor know the ventilation system of a ship?” he suddenly asked and Cora jumped at the sound of his voice. It had a certain softness to it when he wasn’t yelling at her. It almost sounded pleasant.

“I was born on a ship like this. Spent most of my childhood on one. It’s not really an ideal place to raise a child, but my parents were so absorbed by their work I’m not sure they even noticed I existed. So I started exploring to pass the time. It ended up being a great way to travel fast and undetected since the corridors have more turns and people you can bump into.” 

“So you’re born in the Empire. Why do you want to leave it?”

Cora fell silent for a moment. She had never said this to anyone before, she knew voicing her concerns was never an option. But he wasn’t going to kill her opinion on politics. “I’ve seen what it can do.” She finally said. “I was raised thinking the Empire was this wonderful thing that would make us all live in harmony, where we would all be equal and there are no borders. I was led to believe that this is an ideal that was worth dying for, and that there are people who try to steal this from us for their personal gain and we have to fight them.” Her voice sounded weak in the dark, windy tunnel, but she had made up her mind. She was leaving, no matter the cost. “I’ve seen what the Empire can do in the name of peace. And I can’t fight for that. I may be just a speck of dust in this storm, but I can’t help them anymore.” 

“Don’t you think they’ll kill your parents if they find out you’ve defected,” he asked after a while.

“My mother’s dead and my father can get himself out of any situation, no matter how shitty. I’m more afraid of what he’ll do to me if they catch me. You know that public execution I told you about? If he gets his hands on me it will be much, much worse.” She smiled, but it was bittersweet, and for the first time since she had met him she thought she saw compassion in his eyes. Or maybe it was just the light.

Soon the light seemed to disappear in the tunnel and Cora knew they had reached the main the shaft. It was one of those tunnels that probably connected all the levels. If you fell in one, you would probably be turned to mush when you reached the bottom. Pretty scary shit, but luckily it wasn’t Cora’s first seeing one. The rebel though, let’s just say he wasn’t that thrilled. 

“There’s a ladder on the right side, we’ll use that to go down. Here, tie this around your waist,” she said handing him a piece of rope. “In case one of us falls, the other will catch them.” She tied the other end of the rope around her waist and secured it tightly. This time the rebel didn’t complain and did as he was told. She liked him better now that he was more obedient. He seemed actually nice when he kept his mouth shut. “You go first.”

The descent seemed to go on forever. Cora had tied the flashlight to her belt so they had a little light, but the size of the shaft still gave her the creeps, like the darkness was a few meters away ready to swallow her. When they finally reached the corridor on the desired level Cora breathed a sigh of relief. Her arms and legs were hurting and the muscles had started to cramp. She looked at the rebel and saw that he wasn’t looking really good. Even in the dim light Cora could tell he was deathly pale and his breathing was uneven. She had saved his life only to almost kill him. 

He got up, though, and he was walking even faster than Cora, who decided she had to start hitting the gym again if a dude who had just been shot in the ribs and almost bled to death had more stamina than her. It was really impressive that someone with his wounds could still stand on his feet, let alone run.

From his description he had hidden his ship on Cargo 5 and Cora almost hugged him thanking heavens for how lucky they had made him. Cargo 5 was the furthest from them, but it was the easiest one to get out of. This was the cargo bay they used for supplies too and it was one of the most familiar to Cora. 

They had reached it fairly quickly since the vents made a straight line towards it and the rebel set an alert pace. They got out of the ventilation system through a maintenance door. They could see through the glass doors of the cargo bay how the main gates were opening to let a large cargo ship in. 

“We can get out before they close the gates,” the rebel said and Cora could read hope on his face. 

Cora grabbed two space suits from the hanger and they dressed hurriedly. She was so close to freedom she was almost shaking with excitement. But it wasn’t over yet, and here they may have to face stormtroopers, so she took her blaster out of her bag and attached it to the suit, even though she wasn’t sure she would be able to use it in a fight.

“I thought medical personnel wasn’t issued blasters.”

“Shhh, don’t tell anyone,” she smiled and she could swear she could see the ghost of a smile passing over his face. “Decompression chambers to the left. 

After passing through decompression it seemed like their luck had ran out. They bumped right into two guards.

“Identify yourselves,” came the distorted voice of one of the guards.

“MD1309 Corinthia Enoch. I’ve been told you received a transport for us?”

“It was picked up yesterday.” Shit.

“They misplaced a case, A0s-574. They insist they never got it from cargo, but I am sure they just filed it under the wrong number again and sent it god knows where. I have to check here first before we start another search through all of the supplies on the ship. I really hope they forgot to pick it up from cargo, otherwise it will take days to track it down and we really need it fast.”

The guard seemed to think for a bit. “Alright, but be quick. We got another shipment coming in and we have to evacuate before it docks.”

“It will be 10 minutes, tops. Aisle 4?” she asked but started jogging before he answered. They were exchanging weird glances and Cora supposed they had noticed her bag. Please let us reach the ship, please.

She didn't have time to think about it too much nor the guards to say anything because the sirens started blaring at full intensity.

“Shit! Total lockdown! RUN!” They had found a security breach. “They won’t be able to close the gates with the cargo ship still entering!” she screamed at the rebel and followed him. Luckily, a small imperial cargo ship was waiting for them, a stolen one of course, but she wasn’t complaining. They got in fast and Cora collapsed on the floor. The rebel hurried to the control panel where, to Cora’s surprise, an imperial droid was waiting. 

“You are late,” the droid scolded him. “We almost got found out twice but I managed to turn them away.”

The rebel was fiddling with the controls and the ship started trembling as the engine started. Cora got up and sat on one of the chairs, took off her uncomfortable space suit and secured her seat belt.

“Who is she?” asked the droid, pointing a metal finger at her

“Not now, K” yelled the pilot, as he lifted the ship into the air. Blasters were already shooting at them and Cora wondered how long it would take until the TIE fighters would take them down. She watched holding her breath how the rebel maneuvered the ship and got them out of the gates, almost grazing the cargo ship in the process and then as he found a piece of clear sky he entered hyperspace. 

Cora breathed a sigh of relief as she saw unfamiliar stars. Half an hour ago she was alone in the med bay waiting for her lunch and now she was on a stolen ship with a rebel whose name she didn’t know and an imperial droid. She had left the Empire behind with all its bittersweet memories. She could start a new life where she wouldn’t have to feel guilty for her every action. She was free to make her own destiny. It was a new day. Cora allowed herself to smile. 

“Sooo… who is she?” The droid asked again, and her smile faded as the rebel got out of the pilot’s chair and approached her, blaster gun in hand.

Her new found freedom lasted only a few minutes. The world became dark in a fraction of a second.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hi! New chapter up! It's a bit short, and I apologize for that, but I'm happy I've managed to write anything at all. 
> 
> Again, special thanks to Hexell for being my friend and to themostmarvelousimagines for the idea.
> 
> Enjoy! ^__^

Cora woke up with a pounding headache and the sinking feeling that something bad was about to happen. She tentatively opened her eyes but her vision was blurry and her head was spinning, so she couldn’t identify her surroundings. She was surprised and a little frightened to find out that her arms felt like they had been tied together and she wasn’t able to move them. What the fuck, she thought, not remembering what had happened.

“Corinthia Enoch,” she heard a strangely familiar voice say in a mildly annoying accent. Why did it annoy her?

She made a conscious effort to focus on what was going on in front of her, which only intensified her headache so she held her eyes shut for a few moments, hoping she wouldn’t vomit. Once her head stopped spinning and her vision cleared, the reality of what she had gotten herself into hit her like a freight train. She had betrayed the Empire, left her old life behind and ran away with a sketchy dude. If only this was a romance so they would write books based on her life. But no, this was a very unpleasant comedy.

“That’s my name,” she replied and her voice sounded coarse and distant. She pulled on her hands trying to free herself but found out they were tied to a metal bar. The zip tie that was fastened around her wrists looked sturdy and was so tight that she had no hope to just wiggle free. She sighed and mentally hit herself over the head.

“A quite terrifying name,” he spoke, and Cora could feel the hate in his voice. “The whole galaxy knows it.”

“I’m sorry to burst your bubble, but it’s not me they fear,” she said, looking him in the eye.

He was standing near the command post, his back turned to the controls, the black droid peeking over his shoulder. She noticed he had changed out of the imperial uniform and was now wearing a tan shirt and brown pants. How long had she been out if he had time to change? Also, what the fuck was he doing with an imperial droid? Was he a spy for the Empire, pretending to be a rebel just to see who would betray? Cora’s blood froze for a second. No, she said to herself. His wound was real. No one would put that much effort in staging this just so they could get to her.

“Is it so?” he asked, narrowing his eyes. “Aren’t you the daughter of Admiral Alastor Enoch, one of the most ruthless imperial dogs, commander of the star destroyer Corinthia?” He took a step closer, but still kept a safe distance, like Cora could pull out a blaster out of her ass at any time and shoot him.

“You’re talking to me about my father, but you’re not telling me what I’ve done wrong. Last time I’ve checked, I was nice enough to save your life. You owe me.”

“I don’t owe you nothing,” he hissed.

“Really? Cause I remember you almost bleeding to death on the infirmary floor!” she yelled, losing her temper. “And don’t think for a second that you would have made it to your ship without my help, you ungrateful bastard!”

“Is that true, Cassian?” the droid asked him, throwing him what Cora supposed was an inquisitive look. She could never guess what the droids were thinking. 

“Not now.”

“Oh, so your name is Cassian. Nice to meet you Cassian. Actually, I deeply regret meeting you Cassian. Go fuck yourself.” Oh she was bitter. So bitter that the only thing she wanted was to connect her boot with his face repeatedly until she felt satisfied. She actually considered lunging at him and trying her luck, even if that meant breaking both her wrists. Unfortunately, he was keeping a safe distance from her.

“Listen,” she continued, this time trying to keep her anger in check. “I’m just a medic. Not even a combat medic, I only see the fight if someone attacks the ship, and even if that happens I just wait for it to end since medical personnel don’t have weapons and aren’t expected to fight. Don’t make me the target of your rage.”

“You did have a blaster when you came in here,” the droid let her know.

“That is my personal weapon, it’s only meant for emergencies.”

“I wonder how much Admiral Enoch would pay to get his daughter back,” Cassian said, his eyes still burning with controlled rage. 

“Admiral Enoch doesn’t give a shit about his daughter, I assure you. He never did, and never will. As for the Empire, I was dead for them the moment I left that star destroyer. They’ll never make an effort to get one of their doctors back, we’re disposable.” Fear was starting to creep on her. If he decided to try to sell her back to the Empire they would both be dead in no time. “Are you a bounty hunter?” There was also the chance that he would want to sell her on the black markets. With so many enemies of the Empire a lot of people would be glad to get their hands on an admiral’s daughter. Cora was frightened of what they would do if they succeeded. 

“And if I am?” he grinned and Cora hated him a little more.

“Well, then we could negotiate.” She responded to his grin with a grimace.

“You arrogant imperial scum. Thinking you can buy your way out of everything.” He took a few steps closer and was now looking down on her. Cora fought the urge to try and heatbutt him.

“My life is all I have,” she pleaded in the end. “I’m no one in this war you are fighting. I’m just doing my job, surviving, like everyone else. I’ve never killed anyone, it’s not my fault that my father is an admiral or that he named a warship after me. I just want to live a normal life away from it all. Please, just let me go.”

He looked her in the eye like he was trying to read something in her gaze. “It’s not my place to judge. The Alliance will have to decide what’s going to happen to you.” He turned around and got back to the control panel.

“Wait! You’re taking me to the Rebellion?” she yelled, with renewed fear. If the Empire would execute her in the blink of an eye, the Rebellion wouldn’t waste that much time either.

“Yes,” was the only thing he said as he sat in the pilot’s chair.

“But you made a deal with me,” she pleaded again, “that you’d drop me off someplace safe.” Her voice was weak as she was losing hope.

“I never said that.” He turned around and looked at her. “I said I’d get you out of there, and I’ve kept my end of the bargain. I never said I’d let you go.”

Whatever remained of Cora’s heart just sunk to the depths of hell. She hated herself for being so naive and thinking someone was actually going to care about her once in her life. The world wasn’t made of daisies and she was all alone. 

“And I was stupid enough to actually think you could be _nice_ ,” she said to herself.

“Yes you were,” came the droid’s reply.

“Thanks.”

 

*

 

The planet they landed on was covered in rainforests from what she could see. She had never been to the jungle before so she was surprised how humid the air was and how difficult to breathe. The fact that she had lived most of her life on spaceships with controlled climate didn’t make it any easier. She started to sweat uncontrollably the moment she got off the ship.

The base was a huge stone structure that may or may not have been a temple a long time ago. Cora couldn’t identify it. She had never paid too much attention in history classes and was starting to regret it. At least she could have guessed the name of the planet that will be her final resting place. 

Cassian, who had replaced the zip tie around her wrists with a pair of handcuffs, was now walking behind her, pointing a blaster at her back. Cora did her best to keep her head up high and her vision unfocused as she walked through the Rebel base, avoiding as many stares as she could. She was sure they hadn’t publicly announced she was coming, but even so they could see the imperial crest embroidered on her uniform and wonder who she was. An Imperial prisoner brought to base. Cora had never felt so humiliated in her life. 

They entered the hangar that seemed to occupy most of the base level, took an elevator up and walked through a few corridors until they reached a rather large room where some important looking people had gathered. Cora’s heart was beating so fast it was threatening to break out of her rib cage, but she did her best to appear unfazed. She felt like a little girl taken to trial for crimes she hadn’t committed, and the judges didn’t seem friendly.

There were a few people she noticed first: a red haired woman dressed in a long robe and a grumpy dude with a huge forehead, that were standing out in the crowd. Cora stopped in front of them, trying to gather what was left of her composure. 

“You must be Corinthia Enoch, daughter of Admiral Alastor Enoch, am I right?” the red haired woman addressed her. Cora nodded but didn’t say a word. “My name is Mon Mothma and I am the leader of the Alliance.”

“Pleasure,” she replied in a monotone voice. 

“We have been informed that you have willingly betrayed the Empire,” she continued. “Is that correct?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“You’re asking me why I ran away from the Empire? You’re the ones fighting against it, you know full well what it can do,” Cora spat at her. “Is it so surprising that I wanted to leave?” She knew she should stay humble, but her anger was getting the best of her.

“It is surprising that a daughter of a well known imperial officer has left the Empire, yes. It makes us question the sincerity of this act.” 

“Listen… ma’am. I’m a doctor.” She tried changing her tone to a softer one. “The only reason I’m a military doctor is because my whole family has been in the army for generations, and it was somewhat expected of me to do the same. I’ve never done anything for the Empire other than heal people. It just happens that I ended up seeing the cruelty they can show and I no longer want to be a part of it.” 

“She’s a spy they’ve sent to infiltrate the Alliance,” the human frown finally spoke and Cora felt like she already hated him. Which she probably did. Along with everyone else in that room.

“I’m a doctor and I don’t give a shit about your Alliance,” Cora barked at him. “Ma’am, the only thing I wanted was to get out of there, get to a remote, safe place where no one knew me and herd goats for the rest of my life. Peaceful, quiet life. So please, just let me go.” The frown snorted.

“I am sorry, but we can’t do that,” the woman replied. “As general Draven said, you may be a spy and we can’t risk you disclosing the location of our base to our enemies.” The woman was looking down on her and Cora felt like she was losing it.

“I’m not a spy! Please stop saying that. And I have absolutely no idea where this fucking base is.” She took a deep breath. “None of this would have happened if this asshole,” she pointed both of her indexes towards Cassian’s nose, since her hands were bound together, “had kept his word!”

“That man is a Captain in the intelligence department,” the frown yelled at her. “Show some respect.”

“Oh, my sincerest apologies,” Cora replied in a mocking tone. She took a deep breath and regained her composure. “If _Captain_ Asshole had kept his promise and dropped me on a safe planet I wouldn’t be here right now.” She threw him a death glare before she continued. “I never wanted anything to do with you and your war. I just wanted to be away from it all.”

“However,” the woman continued completely ignoring Cora’s outburst, “you could convince us that you aren’t a spy, and if you do, you’d be free to go.”

“And how can I possibly do that?” she asked suddenly paying attention. Maybe she had a chance after all.

“You could prove your loyalty to us by sharing with us some of your inside knowledge of the Empire.”

“I doubt any of my knowledge would be of any interest, but if you want to organize your med bay, I will gladly help you.” She smiled, but it was forced. She was pretty sure this wasn’t what they meant, but she played stupid. A part of her had hoped some of the rebel’s dumb luck had rubbed off on her.

“I didn’t mean your medical knowledge, Corinthia,” the woman said, giving her a stern look.

“You want information about my father.” Cora looked down at her hands and cursed the day when she met that stupid rebel. She had a decent life that permitted her to keep her eyes shut to what was going on in the world. Had her conscience been a little more sleepy, she could have lived her whole life in blissful ignorance. But she knew she couldn’t have done that. Sometimes when she slept she could see the dead from Cheyne 3.

“Yes.”

“I don’t have any information about my father, or his work, that you might find relevant. Most of what I know is already public knowledge and the rest are just childhood memories.” Cora’s voice was monotone, all the anger having dissipated. “You’d be surprised to find out that you may know more than me about him.”

“When was the last time you saw your father?” General forehead had taken over the interrogation. 

“About six months ago. We had tea. And no, before you ask, he never talks about his work with me. I don’t have the necessary clearance to know any imperial business.” She smiled, but it was more of a grimace.

“Do you know his whereabouts?” he continued, same frown on his face.

“Nope. I never do. He is the one that comes to visit me, once in a blue moon.” She tried to keep her voice steady, but it sounded sad to her own ears. “I guess he’s on ISD Corinthia, somewhere in space.” She smiled that dumb smile again to hide her discomfort.

“But you do have a way of contacting him.”

It wasn’t a question, and Cora felt a bitter taste in her mouth. She knew that they would try to use her to get to her father, after all, she was only valuable because of him, but she hoped it would be later than sooner. Now she was afraid. How long will she be able to take torture before she’ll give up and tell them everything? Even if it wasn’t much, she had been honest when she told them she didn’t know anything about his work, but the little things she knew were valuable to her. Her father had done terrible things, she was aware of that, but even if she hated him sometimes for what he represented, he was still her father. 

“I’m not gonna betray him.”

“You know full well who he is and you chose to cover for him?”

“He’s my father, general,” she said, looking him in the eye. “Not the best father in the world, not the most present. I know he wouldn’t lift a finger to get me out of here, but you know what, he’s still my father. I know one day this war will get him killed, I’ve accepted that a long time ago, but I’m not gonna be the one that pulls the trigger.”

They were all silent for a moment and Cora felt the overwhelming sensation of everyone looking at her and judging her. Finally Mon Mothma was the one that spoke. Cora was curious what her sentence would be.

“You refuse to give us the information we ask for, even if doing so would win your freedom, Doctor Corinthia Enoch?”

“Yes,” she replied, and her voice echoed through the room, surprising even herself with how resolute it sounded. 

“Very well. Take her to her cell.”

Two armed guards grabbed her and guided her out of the room. On her way out she took a moment to shoot another death glare towards Cassian. He looked mildly bored. The nerve.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 3, a bit short, but I hope you guy still enjoy it. Many many thanks for the kudos and the views and the bookmarks and reading and liking and everything. You guys make me a happy munchkin. 
> 
> Many thanks to Hexell and themostmarvelousimagines for making this fic happen. <3

She was searched thoroughly and stripped of all personal possessions before she was given a pair of gray overalls that looked just as depressing as she felt. Then they took her a few levels down to what she thought looked like catacombs beneath the old temple. Besides some warehouses connected to the hangar above, that level didn’t seem to have been used very often. 

Their steps echoed as they guided her through the maze of stone corridors. Cora tried to remember the turns they took but that proved rather tricky. She had no hope of escaping anyway. She was in the middle of the rebel base, surrounded by thousands of armed soldiers and she couldn’t even shoot a blaster properly. So much for all those years of stormtrooper training wasted on her. 

The prison looked like a combination of old and new: the cells were carved in stone, but the metal bars and lock system looked brand new. They put her in the last cell on the row and closed the door behind her. 

Cora’s heart sunk a little deeper. She had never been imprisoned before, not even during her stormtrooper years, when they used to shove you in a cell whenever they thought you misbehaved. The sensation of being locked was new. She never felt completely free while working for the army, but at least her world had been a little bigger. 

She started pacing through the cell. It was roughly 3 by 3 meters, but it looked like it was the biggest cell in the row. She took this as a sign that the Rebellion was thinking about her wellbeing. She snorted. There was a shower, a toilet and a small sink crammed on her right side and a small metal bed attached to the back wall. She had a thin mattress, a pillow and a blanket and that was about it. She was already starting to miss her old life with the Empire and the comfort that came with it. 

When she grew tired of pacing around aimlessly she sat on the bed. The mattress was harder than she expected so she dreaded the idea of actually having to sleep on it. The linens were coarse and so was the blanket. Cora sighed. 

She was underground, she knew that by the complete lack of windows, but just how far underground she couldn’t tell. Vents continuously pumped air, but it was still incredibly humid and hard to breathe. Her skin felt sticky and gross and she wanted nothing more than to take a shower, but there was no shower curtain, no separation, nothing. She would be completely exposed to anyone who entered the prison. She sighed again and laid on her back pressing the pillow to her face, completely engulfed in misery.

“I hope you’re not trying to kill yourself with that pillow.” Cora nearly jumped out of her skin hearing the familiar voice. She threw the pillow on the floor and stood up.

“It didn’t seem like such a bad idea,” she replied. Captain Asshole was standing in front of her cell, a food tray in his hands. She hadn’t heard him coming. Did she fall asleep for a few minutes without noticing or was he really that silent? “Oh, you’ve decided to not let me starve today, how nice of you,” she mocked, throwing him the fakest smile she could muster. 

“Don’t make me change my mind,” he replied while unlocking an opening in the cell door and pushing the tray through. He seemed to have a perpetual frown on his forehead, and if it wasn’t for the obvious difference in appearance, Cora would have sworn he was related to General Forehead. 

“Is it poisoned?” she asked, dipping a finger in what looked like some very dead beans of sorts. Her stomach made a loud rumbling noise reminding her that she hadn’t eaten since morning, and that seemed like another life altogether. 

“Why would I do that?” He looked vexed. “There are faster ways to kill you if we wanted you dead.”

Right about now Cora wanted to have her hands around his throat, sensually choking him to death, but he was keeping his distance.

“Then are you letting me go?” she asked, even though she had no hope.

“No.” Concise and unyielding. She wondered if throwing the tray at his head would give him a concussion. Probably not, it was plastic. 

“Are you always like… this?” She wiggled a finger in his general direction.

“Like what?” he asked, genuinely surprised by the question.

“...abrasive?” She couldn’t find a better word. Actually she could, but she chose the least offensive one.

“I could ask you the same question.” The frown was back.

“Actually no, I’m very nice. You should have seen me in a good mood.” He didn’t seem very convinced. “I just can’t stand pieces of shit like you,” she said, pressing her face to the iron bars. “I don’t think I’ve ever regretted saving anyone’s life until I met you, and I worked for the Empire.”

He took a few steps towards her cell until their noses were almost touching. “I advise you to start talking soon,” he threatened, “and maybe they’ll make your stay here short.”

Cora put her arm through the bars trying to grab his collar, but he was a lot faster than she expected and nonchalantly took a step back avoiding her grip. 

“Eat your food,” he said turning around and walking towards the exit. “We wouldn’t want Miss Corinthia Enoch to be in any way uncomfortable during her stay at our base.” 

Cora wanted to throw the tray at him but he was already gone, so she picked up her pillow and screamed in it for a few minutes until she lost her voice. Then she started silently sobbing until she fell asleep.

The next few days were torture. Cora never realised just how luxurious her previous life had been. She promised herself to never take normal beds for granted if she ever got out of there. She hadn’t experienced back pain so intense since she first joined the army and they tried to cram a few years worth of physical training in one day. The water was lukewarm at best, but Cora’s attitude to being seen naked had improved after two days of not showering. If someone was going to watch, let them. She knew she had a great ass, at least that will be remembered about her after they execute her for being imperial scum. The food was mediocre but edible. 

The worst thing was the boredom. Never had she spent so much time doing absolutely nothing. At first she thought she’d just sleep the whole time, but after a few restless naps she gave up on that idea. She had thoroughly searched her cell to the point that she knew all the dents in the walls. She found a grey lichen in a corner and after a few days of utter boredom she started talking to it. She named it Ben. They were best friends now. 

Her only human interaction was when they took her for interrogation once a day. The guards came, picked her up and took her to a room where General Draven and some others were waiting for her. Sometimes, Mon Mothma joined too. It was never Cassian and she was thankful for that. She was still very angry at him and she wasn’t sure she could hold her temper in his presence. 

The interrogations usually went the same way: they asked her questions, she put on a brave front and mocked them whenever she could, then they started threatening, she lied, they yelled, she yelled, and finally back to the cell. Mon Mothma was the only one that didn’t lose her temper with Cora and for that she feared her. When she looked at her it felt like she could see through her bravado and that one day she’d just give up under her gaze and tell them everything they needed to know. 

She had made a habit out of telling them the most unbelievably fake stories she could think of. Without any other means to entertain herself in her cell, she kept imagining absurd scenarios to tell them at the interrogation. It was their fault in the end. She had asked them for a book and they said no.

Curiously though, they never hurt her physically. Draven and another officer whose name she didn’t bother remembering huffed and puffed and even hit the desk a few times but they never hit her. They should have gone the hard way already and bring in the torture, but something was stopping them and that was giving her a tiny bit of hope. Maybe they won’t kill her. Maybe they won’t torture her until she becomes something less than human. 

Maybe they’d just let her rot in that prison cell. She wondered how long she’d be able to take it before she’d beg for death to come. 

 

*

 

Doctor Derin Crane had already been old when he joined the Rebellion, but now he felt even older. Not that he would ever admit that to anyone, and he had plenty of energy still, but sometimes he really needed to take a break and take his mind off the horrors the civil war had brought. 

He knew it was a sacrifice they all had to make and after so many years in the service of senator Bail Organa he was fiercely loyal to the cause, but he sometimes felt like he wasn’t cut out for this anymore. Maybe it was time to retire. Maybe he should have retired the day the senator asked him to join the Alliance. 

Now, he had no chance of retiring. Not after so many of their medics had been killed in an ambush while being transported to another base and so little staff were left at headquarters. He often found himself alone at night in the recovery ward taking care of the patients with only the droids to help. 

After such a night when he was getting ready to go to sleep Cassian Andor entered the sickbay looking more dead than alive. 

“Good morning, Captain,” he greeted, guiding him to a consultation table.

“It isn’t good at all,” the Festian replied and winced as he laid down.

“You look like shit,” said the doctor, pulling on some gloves and coming closer to him. “What’s the problem?” Cassian took off his shirt and revealed a huge purple bruise on his ribs. The area looked swollen and infected. 

The doctor started examining it without any delay as a medical droid was hooking the captain to a monitor. It didn’t look good. It was a blaster wound that was patched in a hurry and otherwise left untreated. By the way he hissed when he touched it he assumed there were some broken ribs in there too. Scanning the area proved him right. 

“It’s bad! Why didn’t you come here the moment you got to base?” the doctor scolded him. “This is emergency military stitching, it’s meant to keep you alive until you can get further medical assistance. The wound won’t heal on its own! How long ago did you get this?” He asked as he moved him to one of the operating rooms. He got ready to cut through the stitching expecting the worst. He couldn’t leave it untreated much longer or the infection could spread through all of his body. 

“Two days ago. They didn’t tell me I had to get anything else done. It didn’t hurt for a while.” His breathing was irregular and his skin looked waxy. The monitor indicated he had a fever. He spent two days with a wound like that without telling anyone about it. The doctor wanted to hit him over the head for how stubborn he was sometimes.

“They didn’t tell you? Who’s the idiot? Tell me and I’ll open their skull to see where their brain has gone.” The doctor was really annoyed. A mistake like this could cost them someone's life, in this case the life of a very valuable asset to the cause. For all the work he was doing, Cassian was almost invaluable to the rebellion. 

“It’s not one of ours,” he said, his face suddenly becoming serene as the calming drugs the droid put into his IV were starting to kick in. “At first, I guess she didn’t have the time and now I think she’d be glad to see me die.” The doctor threw him a sideways look before administering the local anesthetic. “She told me that I’m the only person she regrets saving.” 

The captain had never been that talkative before so the doctor attributed it to the combination of exhaustion, high fever, and the drugs. He never talked about his feelings or what bothered him. Actually he was one of the most stubbornly closed off officers he had ever treated. 

“Not going to judge your romantic life, Captain,” the doctor smiled, “but what did you do to the poor lady to make her hate you that much?” He honestly didn’t expect an answer, but given that he wasn’t his usual grumpy self, the doctor used this opportunity to tease him a little. 

“It’s not like that,” Cassian snorted. “But I betrayed her trust, so she has all the reasons to hate me. I may as well have killed her.”

The doctor sneaked a peek at him over his instruments. The captain had his eyes closed and a slight frown on his face. He looked uncomfortable, but it wasn’t from the pain, not the physical one at least, that was long gone thanks to the anesthetic. He often wondered what kind of demons the young captain was battling behind his stern appearance. 

“Are we talking about the imperial medic in the dungeons?” the doctor asked, going back to putting his ribs back together. Cassian opened his eyes and turned his head to look at the old man. “Word travels fast,” he told him, and somehow it always ended up going through the infirmary. 

“Yes,” Cassian said, before turning his head to look at the ceiling. 

“Do you think she’s a spy?” the doctor asked, after a short pause. 

“I don’t know,” he replied, going back to fighting his demons behind closed eyelids. 

The doctor didn’t press him anymore and went back to fixing his wound. It was a sad thing that people as young as the captain were forced to grow up so fast facing the horrors of war. From what he knew he was almost born into the rebellion and grew up knowing nothing else but the fight. He had probably been through more than anyone his age, maybe even some that were older than him. Sometimes he even thought he’d experienced more than him, and he had been in the Clone Wars. But he wondered if he had ever experienced love.

The doctor thought about his late wife and his children who now had their own children on Alderaan. It was worth fighting this war for them. People like him and Cassian and all the others will sacrifice themselves for the sake of the young ones. It was worth it. 

The surgery took a while because the tissue was swollen and infected. After a sleepless night the doctor was afraid not to make any mistake, but his hands were still steady and his mind sharp. In the end he patched him up and moved him to a recovery room. 

“Do you think she’s a good medic?” he asked, while fixing a healing field generator over his wound. 

Cassian opened his eyes and blinked in surprise, like he was awoken from a deep slumber. 

“I don’t know,” he answered. “I think she may be.”

“I see,” replied the doctor, before dimming the lights in the room to let him sleep.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for bookmarks and kudos!
> 
> Special thanks to Hexell and themostmarvelousimagines <3

It had already been a few days since Cassian had stumbled, almost dying, into the med bay and then stumbled, a little less dying, out of it, mere hours after having surgery. Doctor Crane had insisted that he spend at least a whole day recovering in the infirmary, but he didn’t want to stay there any longer than it was necessary. It smelled like disinfectants and death and it creeped him out. So he took off the moment he didn’t feel like fainting and went back to work. 

His superiors didn’t agree with this decision and forced him to take a week off. He argued it, but in the end it wasn’t all that bad. He needed a break, even though he would never admit it. As things got more tense between the Empire and the Rebellion, he often found himself so absorbed in his work that he neglected even his most basic needs. So he took this opportunity to catch up on sleep and eat and take care of the personal stuff he had been delaying for months.

He still had to attend the intelligence briefings every other day, but that didn’t bother him. He liked to stay informed. He felt like he was still relevant even if he was grounded. It gave him a purpose and a sense of direction. It’s easy to get lost when you have nothing else to do but to listen to the voice in your head. 

And right now the voice in his head was telling him that he’d made a huge mistake regarding the whole Corinthia Enoch situation. He had been so blinded by rage that he didn’t listen to the voice of reason, if he even had one at that point. She was right. He should have just dropped her off someplace and then forget all about it. Hell, for a moment he even wanted to help her get fake papers and maybe recruit her for the Rebellion. They were always in need of specialists, and a medic with military training wasn’t something that easy to pass up.

But then he heard her name and all his composure flew out the window. All the people that had been killed by Admiral Enoch and his ISD Corinthia, all the pain and the suffering caused by the Empire, in that moment, he blamed it all on her. All his bottled up anger had been spilled and he wanted revenge. 

He started regretting it the moment he calmed down a little. By that time they had already labelled her a spy and locked her in a cell and there was nothing he could do to get her out. If when they had left the star destroyer she was no danger to the Alliance, right now she knew the location of their base, their names and who knows what other things. Even if she had never been an imperial spy, they had made an enemy of her. And he blamed himself for that too. 

General Draven was a distinguished general and strategist, but he wasn’t very good with people. He dealt with armies and ships and troops, not with individuals. He was stubborn and proud, hated to be defied or contradicted, and Corinthia was nothing if not defiant. He had made it his personal quest to expose her and drain her of all her secrets. From what he’d heard he was conducting the interrogations himself, which wasn’t that odd given the importance of the prisoner, but to Cassian this wasn’t a good sign. He was afraid the general would turn this into a personal vendetta. 

On the other side, Mon Mothma had changed her opinion on the doctor a little after Cassian had been debriefed on the mission and actually objectively spoke in her favour a couple of times. He had told them everything that had happened and he didn’t avoid emphasising her role in the success of the mission. Draven argued that they had too much luck leaving the ship so they had to have been allowed to leave and she was too well prepared not to be a spy. Cassian didn’t think of it that way. Yes, they had both been very lucky getting out of there, but she had no way of knowing he would stumble into her infirmary one day. It’s not like she had been trained to do this and that if she ever ran into a rebel. It wasn’t a believable scenario. She had a bag ready, but no matter how much they had searched it they still didn’t find anything that would prove their assumption that she was an agent working for the enemy. She had some clothes, medical supplies and equipment, survival gear, some personal effects, a blaster gun and 20000 credits in coins. It looked like the bag of someone who really wanted to run away. She had seen him as her ticket to freedom. And he put her in jail. So much for gratitude.

At the end of the meeting Cassian realized he hadn’t heard half of what was discussed and cursed himself for letting his guilt get the best of him. He was supposed to be level-headed and smart, but right now he wasn’t displaying any of those traits and it was getting on his nerves. Which, of course, made him even less focused. 

General Draven asked him to stay behind after the meeting and Cassian had a bad feeling about that. He wasn’t allowed to go on missions yet, as per doctor’s orders, even if his wound had almost healed, so he assumed what Draven wanted to talk to him about had something to do with Corinthia and right now he wanted to stay as far away from her as possible. 

“Captain,” the general addressed him, closing the door after the others had left the room. “How’s your injury?”

“Much better, thank you.”

“You take your time and rest. We wouldn’t want to lose your services,” he continued, fiddling with some datapads.

“I will, thank you.” Cassian was sure he didn’t keep him there just to ask him about his health, so he was waiting patiently for the general to get to the point. 

“About our prisoner…” he finally spoke. “We haven’t been doing much progress.” 

That much Cassian knew. He expected the doctor to be difficult, but they had their ways of getting the information out of people so it was just a matter of time until they broke her. 

“She refuses to tell us anything relevant,” the general continued. 

“Have you tried everything?” Cassian asked, furrowing his brows.

“No! No.” Daven started rubbing his eyes like he was too tired for this. “Senator Mothma opposes the use of any kind of force or… coercive measures in this case. She thinks that we can still win her over as an ally, and torturing her if she’s innocent wouldn’t be a moral thing to do.”

“And what do you think, General?” Cassian took the liberty to ask.

“I think that innocent or not she may have information we need. What’s the sacrifice of one, when you could save millions? Don’t you think so, Captain?” he asked, giving him a sideways glance.

“It’s not my decision to make, Sir” Cassian replied automatically, but a cold shiver was running down his spine. 

“You’re right. It’s mine.” Draven took a datapad out of the stack on the desk and offered it to Cassian. “That’s what we know about her so far. There are records of the interrogations that have been conducted until now. She’s yours.”

Cassian reluctantly took the datapad. “With all due respect, Sir, I doubt that she’ll be more willing to talk to me.”

“Then make her. Threaten her, earn her trust, lie to her. Hell, torture her if necessary and I’ll deal with Senator Mothma later, but find out what we need to know.” There was a mask of anger not very well hidden on the general’s face and Cassian wondered what exactly was making him lose his composure like that.

“What if she doesn’t know anything useful?” he asked, without looking the general in the eye. 

Draven came closer and put a hand on his shoulder in an act of reassurance. “Then it’s my mistake. Your conscience is clear, Captain.” The general’s hand felt heavy on his shoulder.

Cassian replied with a very unconvincing nod. 

He looked over the data pad with disgust. Once again he had to do something he dreaded. Usually he could keep his conscience silent by repeating that this had to be done and if he did it, no one else had to go through this moral debate. But today wasn’t one of those days and the voice in his head kept screaming at him that it wasn’t worth the damage it was doing.

He saluted and left the room thinking that he should have stayed in the fucking hospital for a month. 

 

*

 

The nights were the worst. During the day she could find ways to entertain herself, whether she tried to see animals in the discolorations on the floor, or counted the iron bars for the millionth time, at least there was light and she could keep a part of her brain busy. 

At night, surrounded by darkness, she felt lost. It wasn’t complete darkness, fortunately. The lights on the corridor were always on, but dimmed so that it took some effort to distinguish anything. There was also a small night light above her bed, but that one would automatically turn off after five minutes, so it was useful if you needed to use the toilet, but not much else. 

In the dim light her cell looked eerie, like the deep dark shadows could come to life. She had never been afraid on the dark, not as far as she could remember, but in here it seemed at the same time endless and constricting. Claustrophobic was also something she had never imagined she’d end up being, having lived most of her life either on ships or in boarding schools where space had always been a luxury. But in this cell there was nothing that made her feel safe, that made her feel at home. It was just a box and it was suffocating her.

Her nightmares were back, too. On the ship she managed to keep them at bay by working long hours and going to bed so tired she almost fainted. And if that didn’t work, there were always the pills. Even if she woke up in the middle of the night she would just turn on the light and maybe read a few lines from a book until the dream was forgotten and she could go back to sleep. Now, with nothing but darkness surrounding her, the nightmares felt real. 

She dreamt of darkness and screams and running scared of threats that she couldn’t define. Sometimes she dreamt that she was choking and dying slowly, sometimes she dreamt that she had to kill the ones she loved. The pain and the fear were ever-present. And every time she woke up, her heart beating a million times a minute, she struggled to realize that it was just a dream. When you live in darkness and dream about darkness it is so easy to get the two mixed up. So she gave up sleeping at night altogether. 

The “night” lasted nine hours. She knew because she had counted how many times she had to turn on the night light until the main lights came back on. She always felt relieved when it was finally “day” and she could go to sleep knowing that if she woke up from a nightmare at least she could recognize her surroundings. She tried to keep busy at night by pretending she had an exam in the morning and she had to revise, so she spent most of the time remembering the theoretical parts of her medical training. It felt familiar, she had done it a million times during her school years and it helped her stay grounded. Occasionally she’d fall asleep, but most of the time she could stay awake long enough for the night to pass without any incidents.

She usually slept until noon. She guessed that because she woke up around the time the guards would bring her lunch. She was starting to get used to the food, it tasted like mud but it was an edible sort of mud. She missed the food on the ship though, at least there they put up an effort to make it look nourishing. Actually she missed everything about her former life, including her colleagues and the whiny stormtroopers. Most of all she missed the illusion of being in control of her life. 

After a particularly restless night, as she was sitting cross-legged on the bed, her back to the wall trying to alleviate the pain in her spine, Cassian appeared in front of her cell. She didn’t expect to see him again. He never took part in her hearings, it was always someone else asking the questions. There was no reason for him to visit her alone unless he wanted to personally twist the knife in her metaphorical wounds. Well, maybe that was the exact reason he was there.

“I thought I smelled shit,” she spoke, her voice betraying her exhaustion, “but I never thought you’d materialize in front of me.” She smiled but she was too tired to keep it on her face for more than a second. 

The rebel approached her cell and leaned on the metal bars. He had lost his frown and his body language showed less hostility than last time she saw him. She couldn’t help but notice that he looked good. Not that he was ugly before, but now he looked well rested and clean. His hair and beard were groomed and his sand coloured uniform fit him. He was doing well while she hadn’t seen herself in a mirror since… She wasn’t sure how long she had spent in that dreaded cell. 

“Does it make you feel better throwing insults at everyone?” he asked her, lifting an eyebrow.

“Obviously, fuckwad, otherwise I wouldn't be doing it.” It didn’t make her feel better. Nothing short of a mild coma would make her feel better at that point. There was a perpetual sneer imprinted on her face, she didn’t have to look into a mirror to know it was there. “Did they sent you here to interrogate me?” she asked for the sake of making conversation.

“Yes,” he answered, looking at her through the bars.

“Not a great plan.” She uncrossed her legs and got up the bed. Pain shot through her back again but she did her best to hide it. 

“Maybe it’s not. But maybe it is.” 

“What makes you think that?” She took a few steps closer to the door. 

“If you cooperate, maybe I can help you out a little.” His voice was even and professional, not betraying any emotion.

Cora crossed her arms over her chest and leaned on the bars, somewhat mirroring his position. She was close enough that she could just stick out her hand and touch him.

“Oh, you’ve helped enough, thank you very much,” she said, putting as much venom in her words as she could. “I ain’t telling you shit.” 

“Are you sure?” He tilted his head a little and the light emphasized the angles of his face. “You aren’t getting out of here anytime soon, and I could make your stay a little more bearable. Let’s make a deal, you answer one of my questions, I’ll bring you a book.” 

Cora didn’t think, she acted. She slipped her hand through the bars and missed his nose by only a few millimeters. She really wished she could leave him with at least a scratch on his face for having the nerve to propose a deal to her after what he had done. But he was a lot faster than her, she had to admit. Almost like...

“A weasel!” Cora started laughing. It was a nervous, hysterical laughter, that had no happiness in it. She took a step back from the door, running her hands over her face and then through her hair. She was laughing so hard she had to sit down on the stone floor in order not to stumble and fall.

“A what?” Confusion could be read all over Cassian’s face as he approached the cell once again. 

“You look just like a weasel,” she said when she finally stopped laughing. She hadn’t laughed in so long it felt strange and invigorating, even though it was just a byproduct of her fatigue. “Small furry creatures,” she said, trying to get her breathing under control and wipe the tears that had formed in the corners of her eyes, “with cute little faces and noses and tiny little toes. Really cute, but annoying as fuck. They’re so fast and flexible and full of energy and they keep slipping through your fingers when you play with them. I kept thinking you reminded me of something, I just couldn’t put my finger on what it was.” With her breathing steady she got up the floor and dusted herself, even though a little dust couldn’t make her look more deplorable than she already was. Cassian still looked genuinely confused, so she continued. 

“One of the girls at school had one. We weren’t allowed pets but she hid it in the dormitory and let us play with it from time to time. It was a cute little critter.” She sighed, remembering the rest. “They found it eventually and killed it.”

She didn’t need this memory. She didn’t need any of the memories from boarding school to come flooding back, but it was too late for that. Her brain refused to let go of anything that could keep it busy for a while. “I don’t know what they did to the girl,” Cora continued, unable to stop now that she had opened up, “but she didn’t speak for a week after that. We never asked her, you learn really fast to not ask questions.”

She turned around and lay on the bed, feeling exhausted again. The high given by the sudden outburst of laughter was now gone and it left her even more drained of energy than before. 

“Can you tell me more about your school?” Cassian asked, and Cora thought once again that his voice was pleasant when he wasn’t angry. She looked at him. He was resting his forearms on one of the horizontal bars of the door. 

“It’s not a nice place,” she finally told him, turning to face the wall. “Never send your children there.” She pulled the blanket over her head trying to shut the outside world out, but more than that to stop him from seeing the tears that had started running freely on her cheeks. 

When she finally gathered the courage to turn around, he was gone. She was alone once again.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait! Here is another chapter. Thank you all so much for your love <3
> 
> Special thanks to my hero Hexell and themostmarvelousimagines!

“I know you don’t want to talk about your father.” 

Cassian was back the next day and Cora was a lot more wary this time. After the slip up from the day before she couldn’t afford to let her guard down once again. He was sly and she was tired and that was working in his favour. Right now she would have preferred the screaming in the interrogation room to his calm, inquisitive gaze. 

“So you can tell me something else. Something that has nothing to do with him,” he continued. He was standing in the middle of the corridor, hands nonchalantly shoved into his pockets, looking very at ease in his position of inquisitor. He gave off the vibe that this was a casual conversation instead of what it really was. But Cora knew better. 

“No,” she said, simply. She was perched on the edge of the bed, arms crossed over her chest, looking as defensive as possible.

“What have you got to lose?” he asked, taking a few steps towards the cell, but still keeping his distance. There was a silent threat in the way he moved.

“My dignity,” she finally replied, never taking her eyes off him. She hoped she was making him at least a little uncomfortable with her staring. If it was so, he didn’t show it. 

“You have to give me something,” he urged. “For me to be able to help you, I have to show them that you’re willing to cooperate. You look like someone who’s done worse deals than this.” He was using her own words in an attempt to get her talking, but Cora wasn’t falling for it.

“Yes, and the worst deal I’ve ever made involved you so I think you understand why I’m being rather wary.” 

He got even closer to the cell and rested his forearms on one of the horizontal bars. Cora sneered at him invading her personal space even by a few centimeters. She was starting to become territorial, it seemed. 

“I need to know if we can trust you.”

“I am pretty sure you already know that.” 

“But they don’t. And they’re the ones you need to convince, not me.” He was right, she knew that deep down. She should do whatever was in her power to gain their trust and her freedom. Her loyalty didn’t lie with the Empire, so she could just tell them whatever they wanted to know and save her own skin. He even gave her the option to let her father out of the conversation and give them something else.

But she felt betrayed. She had done nothing wrong and yet they treated her like a criminal. There was no “innocent until proven guilty”. For them, she was born guilty. 

“We need to know who Corinthia Enoch is before we can let you go,” he spoke and Cora wondered how could he lie with such a straight face. He was a spy, she remembered. Lying was his job. 

“It’s Cora. No one really uses my full name.” Plenty of people used her full name and she hated them all. She hated Cassian too, but somehow, Corinthia sounded like an insult when he said it.

“What made you leave the Empire, Cora?”

Cora dropped her eyes to her hands and studied her nails like it was the most interesting thing in the world. She needed a manicure, she concluded. She wasn’t going to get one anytime soon, though.

“The Empire,” she started, “doesn’t really care about individuals. For them, we are slaves, we are drones, meant to do their biddings. And they use you.” She took a deep breath like the words she was speaking were putting a strain on her. “In the end, they will make you do things you don’t want to do. Like Bingo.” She paused for dramatic effect.

“Like what?” His poker face had changed into a look of confusion.

“It’s a terrible game, Bingo,” she continued. “Nobody really talks about it but everyone knows that they’ll make you play after the age of 65. It’s not like you have a choice, they make sure you have no will left after the age of twenty. But I’ve seen my grandmother play the game in the nursing home. It’s savage,” she concluded.

The confusion on his face was replaced by irritation, but then it changed back to the expressionless mask he had before. Cora almost missed the frown. It made him look human.

“This isn’t a joke.”

“Why? Don’t you find it funny? Cause I can’t stop laughing. Been laughing for days now. This is the most fun I’ve had in my life.” She let out a snarky laugh. “Stop trying, weasel-face. I’m not telling you anything. You can take all your lies and your promises, fold them nicely and shove them where the sun don’t shine.”

“Cora…”

“Don’t say my name like we’re friends or something. We’re enemies, you and I. This rebellion of yours reeks just like the Empire. If I knew I was leaving that shithole for something worse I would have let you bleed out on the floor.” She took off her shoes and pulled her knees up on the bed. “I hope you are happy,” she said and all her bitterness resurfaced. “Actually no, I hope you are just as miserable as I am, but unfortunately I’m not sure you have feelings. Have a great day, Captain.”

She turned towards the wall and pulled the cover over her head signalling that the conversation was over from her point of view. She eventually fell asleep and when she woke up he was gone. 

He was back the next day, like clockwork, but Cora ignored him completely. After a few failed attempts at striking a conversation he just leaned on the wall opposite her cell and waited. It was a silent battle of wills, and although he seemed better at it, Cora didn’t give in. It was a challenge, after so many hours of solitude she was yearning for human interaction. No matter how fond she was of Ben, a lichen wasn’t the best conversation partner. In the end he gave up and left. 

Cora was sure he was going to be there the day after and the one after that, and the one after until he got what he wanted. And she was right. He was patient, he didn’t lose his temper, he was good at his job. The outburst of anger she had witnessed the day she met him was something out of the ordinary, probably triggered by his injuries. If he was still angry at her, she couldn’t tell, but somehow she prefered searing hot anger to cold disdain. 

Cora’s body, but especially her brain, wasn’t getting used to being imprisoned. She wondered how others got used to it and survived years and years in prison. She supposed it would get easier to bare at some point, but right now her mental state was going downhill fast. All the things she refused to deal with while working for the Empire, all her bottled up feelings were now bubbling over and she wasn’t prepared for it. She didn’t want to have to deal with the things she had witnessed, or with her mother’s death, or her friend’s death or every bad thing that had happened to her during the years. Until now she just pushed them aside. I have a job to do, she thought, I have something to prove, I will think of them another time. Well that time had come and her brain was populating the darkness with her own demons. She wasn’t prepared. She was alone and scared and overwhelmed.

He found her with her back pressed to the cell door, her elbows on her knees, banging the back of her head on one of the iron bars. The sound resonated in the silent dungeon and its rhythm helped calm Cora down a little. She didn’t hear him coming, she only noticed him when her head didn’t hit the cold metal but the back of his hand. 

“You’re going to get a concussion if you keep doing that,” he told her, and Cora was prepared to throw a snarky comment, but she didn’t have the energy to say it. What was the point, anyway? So she just watched him take a seat on the other side of the cage. He didn’t say anything else, expecting another session of being ignored. 

“Cheyne 3,” she finally said, taking her eyes off of him and going back to staring at the wall. “You asked me why I left.”

He threw her an enquiring glance, but didn’t say anything. Cora was thankful for that. She didn’t know if she could say it out loud, but she had to try. After a night in which she woke up screaming after reliving the incident, she had to find a way to get it off her chest. She figured talking about it would help a little, and since she didn’t have access to a therapist, he was the next best thing. She didn’t care if he told them everything. At this point she knew she had no hope of ever leaving that cell. She just wanted to be able to sleep. 

“About half a year ago, I was assigned to a direct action team,” she started, her voice hesitant. “I wasn’t a combat medic, I would never join the fight since I had failed my stormtrooper training rather unceremoniously years back, I would usually wait on the ship or behind the lines in a safe spot for the field medics to bring me the wounded. This is the closest I’ve ever been to battle, and I guess it’s easy to trick yourself into thinking you’re not part of it if you don’t pull the trigger.” Her nervousness was getting to the point where a cold sweat was starting to form on her forehead. 

“But then we were sent on Cheyne 3.” She let out a shaky breath. “With the DA you never know where they send you beforehand. At least, I never knew. They just sound the alarm and you have to board the ship in less than 3 minutes. They give you the orders on the way, in code, and medical personnel like me isn’t allowed to know. Only after the mission finished I found out the orders were to completely wipe out a rebel outpost on Cheyne 3. Not that I could have changed anything even if I knew.”

Cora turned her head and threw Cassian a glance. He wasn’t looking at her, but had his gaze fixed on the opposing wall. She had to wonder if maybe he knew what she was talking about. Maybe it was a bad idea talking about it. 

“Go on.” She heard him, but he didn’t move to meet her gaze. She sighed and continued. She was well aware that she was digging herself into a hole.

“I stayed behind, as always. Waiting by the ship, hoping it was just an extraction and we could soon go back to the star destroyer and get some sleep. But then I realized it wasn’t. They took out the flamethrowers and the big guns and meticulously tore the place down. And all I could do was look.” Her voice faltered. She wanted to stop, but she had promised herself that she was going to do it.

“There was this boy.” Her voice was weak and every word she spoke drained her of energy. “I think he was younger than me, but not by much. He came running from the base towards our ship. The left side of his face was badly burned. I offered to help him…” Her voice faltered. His image had haunted her numerous times, whether she was sleeping or awake. 

“I didn’t get to do anything before our captain came and shot him dead. He told me not to waste my energy or the supplies on the enemy.” Only after she pressed her hands to her face did she notice she was crying. How embarrassing to cry in front of a stranger, she thought wiping her cheeks as discreetly as she could.

“I just stood there watching him, dead in the black sand, unable to move. Eventually the troops came back and we took off. As I patched some of them up I heard them complain that the mission didn’t go as they thought it would. They were meant to be taken by surprise and finished off easily, but even so they put up a fight and killed three of our own. The stormtroopers were talking like the ones they had just massacred weren't people like us.” 

“Back at base I told my superiors I was done with this, that I was leaving the army, no matter the cost. Two days later there was a disciplinary hearing and I was stripped of my rank and put on hold until further notice. Then, my father came.” There was a bitter taste in her mouth and she was starting to feel lightheaded. Her hands were trembling, almost undetectable.

“He hadn’t visited me in years, but the moment my career was at stake he came running.” She let out a shaky laugh. “We had tea. And he told me that I was stupid for letting the death of a rebel get to me like that, but that I had always been too gentle for war. I am still not sure if that was a thinly veiled insult or not. I could never tell what he was thinking.” 

“He told me that he was going to make it all better. Clean my record, give me back my ranks. He’d find me a job away from the front lines and I’d just have to take it for a few years until they transferred me to a research facility. I nodded and I agreed to everything he said. I didn’t have the power to tell him the only thing I wanted to do was run as far away from the Empire as possible. And how could I?” She turned to look at Cassian, but he still wasn’t returning her gaze. “My mom died for the Empire, my father loves it more than he loves his family. How could I tell him that I was such a coward? That I was ready to betray?” The words hurt. She had never voiced her thoughts but now that she was hearing them out loud it hit her how pathetic she really was. How weak.

“I packed a bag the moment I settled on that star destroyer. I planned my escape route and I waited for an opportunity to leave.” She pressed her hands to her face for a moment, trying to relieve the burning sensation behind her eyes. “And then one day you came, and I left and now I have no future…” She didn’t say it like she was blaming him for it. No, her brain had taken a complete 180 and was now telling her that she deserved it, it was her fault. She was spiralling down with nothing to hold on to. 

“Is that all?” he asked, after a few moments of heavy silence. 

“Yes,” she replied, her voice a mere whisper. 

He got up and left. No goodbye, no even a glance in her direction. Now she felt guilty for talking. Yes, he deserved a boot to the face for being a dick to her, but the story had obviously shaken him and Cora didn’t really want to share her demons with anyone else. She should have thought about that before she opened her mouth. If she was going to unload on someone she should have expected to have an effect on them. Honestly, she didn’t think he’d be anything but professional, taking notes on a datapad, asking questions and trying to check the veridicity of her story. But he was human after all and she knew nothing about him. Maybe they were his friends she had witnessed being massacred. 

She ran her hands over her face, the dried tears making the skin feel flaky. She was very tired and a bit nauseous. She didn’t feel any better. She had expected that her chest would feel lighter and she would feel some sort of relief, but the deep, dark feeling of guilt and shame was still there, constricting and cold. She got up and sat on the bed, completely demoralized.

 

*

 

The hallways were crowded and noisy, but Cassian felt disconnected from everything. It felt like the world around him had a life of its own, one that he wasn’t part of. He moved between them, careful not to bump into anyone, following his own path. Where it would take him, he had no idea. He was so used to following orders and letting others decide for him that he had no idea where he was headed. To another fight, he figured. Always to another fight. 

He thought about what Cora had told him. He knew about Cheyne. He knew it very well. He had recruited some of the rebels that died there that night. He had trained some, and a few were good friends of his. He never thought he would ever meet an imperial that was there that night and let them live. 

But she was crying. Alone and broken in a dark cell that she won’t be leaving anytime soon, he just couldn’t bring himself to end her life like that. He felt sorry for her. But at the same time he hated her and all she represented. The cruelty of the Empire, the gross disregard of human life. She was right, even when she was trying to mess with him a few days ago: the Empire didn’t care about individuals, they only cared about numbers. 

He reached his living quarters without bumping into anyone he knew. That, or they just noticed his irritable demeanor and avoided him. Whichever it was, he was thankful no one wanted anything from him and he could hide from the world for a few hours.

He collapsed on one of the chairs in front of his desk and stared into space for a few minutes. He felt tired, even though he hadn’t been on a mission in a while. The inactivity was getting to him. He would rather be off world, actively fighting, than grounded, watching how the doctor was slowly losing her mind. But this was his job too, no matter how cruel it seemed. 

He opened a drawer and grabbed a bottle of jet juice he kept on hand for the nights when he had trouble sleeping and took a big gulp. The taste was just as horrible as he remembered it, but it was useful for numbing the brain. He took out the data pad and opened her file. He took another sip of the liquor before he started inserting the new information he had on her. Failed stormtrooper training. Witnessed the attack on Cheyne 3; further enquiry needed. Mental state: unstable.

 

*

 

Cora woke up in a strange position, her head under the pillow and an arm dangling over the edge of the bed. She remembered Cassian leaving after the interrogation and the crying fit that took over her moments after, but she had no idea when she had fallen asleep or how long she had slept. A lot, by the looks of it. 

She yawned, stretched her aching muscles and went to the sink to wash the dried tears off her face. Even the cold water was lukewarm in this prison and Cora wondered if she would ever have access to a normal bathroom again. Maybe as a last wish, like some people request a last meal, she will ask for a last shower. At least she will die squeaky clean. 

She turned around to go back to bed before something caught her eye: there was a book on the food tray slot. An actual book. And also a bar of chocolate. She took them both in her hands and started grinning from ear to ear. 

The book looked cheap. It was worn out with the corners bent and broken, the image on the front cover almost impossible to discern. But it was a rather thick book and for Cora that was all that mattered. It meant she had something to occupy her mind for the time being. 

“Look, Ben!” she addressed the lichen in the corner. “He gave us a book! Now we have something to read. And also a chocolate bar because apparently he thinks I’m five and he can bribe me with sweets.” She ripped open the wrapper and shoved half of the candy in her mouth anyway. She wasn’t crazy about sweets, but right now anything that didn’t taste like mildly flavoured mud was a godsend. 

“Now, let’s see what the grumpy captain likes to read in his free time.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the love and the patience. I will only be posting a chapter a week for a while because I will become very busy with work soon, but I promise I will keep updating regularly. If not, feel free to send me howlers.
> 
> Special thanks to Hexell who will help me edit my chapters even at midnight in the freezing cold while protesting against corruption! Thanks love! Special thanks to themostmarvelousimagines who let me use her idea.

“Thank you for the book,” she said when the rebel finally came back.

Cassian hadn’t showed up for two days and Cora was surprised to notice that she had already started to miss him. Well, not really him, she told herself, but interacting with someone, anyone. Even when she was doing her best to ignore him, she still felt a little more relaxed knowing she wasn’t alone. But for the past two days the only people she had seen were the guards that brought her food, and those never talked to her, no matter how much she tried to get on their nerves. 

“Did you read it?” she asked, a cheeky grin spreading over her face. 

She was feeling a bit better. Her sleeping hadn’t improved much, but since right now she could use her little ritual of reading whenever she woke up from a nightmare it was easier to stay grounded. That, or she was finally starting to get used to her confinement. 

“No, I didn’t read it,” he replied, leaning on the prison bars, looking a little more scruffy than before.

“Liar.” She laughed, pointing at him with the book. 

“I did not read it.”

The book was horrible. She cherished it because it helped keep her sane, but by the Nine, was it a terrible book. It was a sappy romance, stretched over too many pages, with cheesy lines, embarrassing situations and stupid protagonists. Cora had no idea why someone would read such a thing let alone write it, and the idea that the captain owned such a book was absolutely hilarious. 

“It looks rather worn out,” she said, flipping through the pages to prove a point, “are you sure you didn’t…”

“It’s not my book,” he explained, becoming a bit defensive. “I just stole it from one of the pilots. We don’t have a library on base.”

“Oh…” Cora could feel her enthusiasm dwindling a bit. Such a failed opportunity to make fun of the captain. She felt quite disappointed that he didn’t read sappy romance stories. He could be lying, though. “So… do you read anything in your free time? Besides the things required for work?” She tried to make conversation in hopes of delaying the moment when he would start bombarding her with questions. He wasn’t here because he missed being insulted by her, after all. And honestly, she wanted to know a few things about him too, since he already knew so much about her life already.

“No.”

“Wow! So you’re really that boring.” Cora smirked.

His eyes darted to the floor. “I guess I am.” For a brief moment his voice had lost that professional tone and he fidgeted nervously. 

Cora looked at him intrigued. Could it be that, from the tirade of insults she had been continuously throwing at him for the past few weeks, this one was the one that hit home? It seemed that the captain actually had feelings under his stern appearance. And she may have hurt them. Did it feel good? No. 

She was starting to get soft, now that her anger had toned down. She understood the reasons behind his betrayal and couldn’t mindlessly hate him for it. She was still angry at him, but she could see why he chose to hand her over to the Rebellion. She sometimes wondered if she would have done the same if she was in his position. The answer was usually no; then again, she wasn’t a soldier. 

“You didn’t visit for two days,” she changed the subject. “You’re trying to let me die of boredom?”

“I was busy,” he replied, his tone neutral again. 

“Mission?”

“Yes.”

“Did it go well?”

“Yes.”

“Did you see anything interesting?”

“Not particularly.”

Cora let out a breath of mild frustration. “This is a conversation, Captain, not a mission debriefing. I think you can use words that are made of more than one syllable.”

“I’d rather we talked about something else.” And so the conversation was over and they were back to being interrogator and interrogated.

“About what?” She could feel the disappointment in her own voice. The fragile spec of good mood she had was now gone, replaced by resignation. She put the book next to her on the bed and prepared for what was about to come.

“You said you failed your stormtrooper training. Can you tell me more about that?”

Cora sighed. “Since I was a kid I wanted to be a pilot.” Like my mother, she thought but didn’t voice it. That detail was of no interest to him. “Unless you want to become a cargo pilot, and I’m sure my father would have never let me do that, you have to join the military. I joined especially for that, but since it’s the army, you’re a soldier first, pilot second, so they put me into the program.” She smiled. “I wasn’t completely shit in the beginning, even though I’m not sure I’d ever been in so much physical pain until then. I could still keep up with the rest of them. My aim was decent, my physical condition improved rapidly. I was really good at the theoretical parts, somewhat good at strategy and I already knew the basics of flying a ship. They were rather pleased with me and I had high hopes…”

“But?” he nudged her after a few moments of silence. 

“But then they started doing battle simulations and that’s where I started to suck,” she smiled bitterly. “In the first simulated battle I froze, unable to move. They said it’s normal, you get scared the first time. But it didn’t get any better. My brain just refused to focus. I started missing my targets, I misheard my orders, I had absolutely no idea what to do. What seemed easy on paper proved almost impossible for me to do in the field, when I could hear the blasters shooting around me.” She felt really stupid, but there was no point denying her lack of skill.

“The only reason I lasted for three years was because I had made some friends and two of them made it their objective to help me out. They stayed behind and guided me, pulled me out of a few ditches by the collar if necessary, sometimes even shot my targets for me. With their help I could make it. I just had to follow them and listen to their commands. I trusted them so it was ok.” She remembered the twins fondly. Thanks to them those three years were probably the best years of her life. 

“Eventually they were moved to another program. They were just too good to stay behind. After they did I requested to be transferred to the medical section and that’s how I ended up being a doctor. There was no actual revelation, I didn’t wake up one day with the urge to save lives and do the right thing. It was just something I could do. It made me feel useful.” She got lost in thought for a few minutes before she abruptly asked. “Do you think it’s stupid?”

“What?”

“How the little choices we make along the way influence the outcome of our life. If I had chosen to become a mechanic instead of a medic, I wouldn’t be here today…” She looked at him and smiled. “Do you believe in destiny, Cassian?”

The question seemed to take him by surprise because he shuffled his feet and scratched the back of his head before replying. “I don’t know.” 

“Me neither.”

The interrogation took longer than before and there was a lot more talking. She didn’t suddenly feel the urge to help the Rebellion, but she figured she had no reason defending the Empire by staying silent. He never once asked her about her father or her childhood, so she had no reason to lie. He wanted to know a lot of specific details about her training: where were they stationed, what kind of training, who was in charge. Cora tried telling him every little thing she could remember, but still some of his questions remained unanswered. In exchange she found out she wasn’t the only one that had left the imperial army to join the Rebellion, it was in fact quite popular. Now she was sure that her imprisonment wasn’t due to her being a defector and possibly a spy, but because she was Corinthia Enoch. 

When he left she felt tired, but oddly at peace. Finally having a conversation like a normal human being had done wonders for her mental state. She knew she would still have nightmares, but for the time being she was serene. 

For dinner she got some fresh fruit with her meal. This was Cassian’s way of thanking her for behaving, she guessed. Nonetheless, she was grateful for the change of menu. Prison time had taught her to enjoy the little pleasures in life. A few more years of this and she would reach enlightenment. She snorted. 

For the next few days his visits became a little more unpredictable. Sometimes he came early in the morning, sometimes late at night, some days he didn’t come at all. It seemed he was fitting her interrogations in the gaps in his schedule. The questioning didn’t touch anything personal, fortunately. He was more interested in technical details, especially her knowledge of star destroyers. They may have had a few imperial defectors in their ranks, but not many of them were familiar with the vent system and access routes. There were little things she never thought to be of any importance, like how they supplied the ships, how did she override the access codes to the maintenance doors, when did the guards make their rounds. He thought this was useful knowledge. Even though she couldn’t call this a friendly conversation, it was the closest they had ever gotten to one. He still got on her nerves from time to time, though.

One day, to her surprise, he didn’t come alone, but accompanied by two guards.

“What’s with the audience?” she asked, getting up from the bed and approaching the door. 

“I’ve gotten permission to take you out for a walk,” he said, taking out a pair of handcuffs.

“A walk.” She looked at him in disbelief. 

“Yes.”

“The kind where we walk hand in hand in under the starry sky and you tell me that my eyes shine like diamonds and there’s a fire burning in your chest that threatens to devour you unless you declare your undying affection for me?” He looked bewildered. “No?”

“Absolutely not.” He frowned and Cora noticed that one of the guards could barely conceal her smile.

“Then you shouldn't have given me the shittiest romance book you could find on base. And expect me to be sane after reading it.”

“You weren’t very sane to begin with,” he mumbled under his breath.

Cora pressed her palms above her heart and put on a mask of complete consternation. “Is that an insult, Captain? How can I join you for a walk now that you’ve hurt my feelings?”

“Very well, you can stay here if you…”

“Nope!” she exclaimed, shoving her hands through the food tray slot so he could fasten the handcuffs. “My poor heart will just have to take it.”

One of the guards opened the door and Cora stepped outside for the first time in god knows how long. She felt liberated somehow, even though she was well aware that she was still a prisoner. It was all psychological, but it made her feel better. Her world was getting a little bigger with each step she took. They guided her through the maze of corridors then took an elevator up. Then moved to another elevator. Then another. Cora looked around and figured that she had never been to that floor before. 

She followed Cassian feeling a little self-conscious about her appearance. After all she was the only one dressed like a prisoner and handcuffed, followed closely by two armed guards, but most people just ignored her. She raised an eyebrow when they entered the med bay, the guards waiting outside the sliding doors. 

“Do you woo a lot of girls by taking them to the med bay, Captain, or are you that paranoid that you have to get them checked first?” 

“The doctor insisted that I bring you in for a routine checkup.” So that was it. He only took her out of the cell to make sure she wasn’t dying. How disappointing. 

“And I thought you were going to take me somewhere exciting.” She tried to appear unaffected, but the slight trembling of her voice gave her away. 

“Well, hello there!” A doctor entered the room, a huge smile plastered on his face. “You must be Cora, am I right?” She nodded. He hadn’t called her Corinthia, which was odd. As far as she knew, only Cassian knew about her name. “You’ve been giving Captain Andor quite a few headaches lately.” She heard Cassian snort and she couldn’t help but smile. 

She liked the doctor. Even though he looked rather old, there was no hesitation in the way he moved. He got ready for the consultation with a vitality that could put many youngsters to shame. But above all, he had a friendly face and hadn’t stopped smiling since he entered the room. Not many people had been smiling at her lately, and she didn’t even realize she missed it until now. 

“I’m doing my best, Sir!” She grinned back at him. She felt like a mischievous teenager and not an accomplished doctor, but she was allowed a little childishness after being confined for so long.

“Please, we may be in the army, but I’m just a doctor. Too much formality. My name is Derin Crane.” He offered a hand for her to shake but noticed her handcuffs. “Captain, can we take those off? I really don’t think it’s necessary…”

“I’m sorry, I can’t do that,” he replied in the same professional tone that he used in the interrogations. “These are the orders, she must remain restrained at all times.” Cora didn’t expect him to free her, but glared at him anyway. 

The doctor sighed and began his checkup. He talked to her the whole time, sometimes asking her about her health, other times about her medical studies and her time working for the Imperial army. She was really excited to talk to someone who spoke the same language. With him she was a doctor once again, and for a few moments she didn’t feel like a prisoner. 

She left the med bay in a surprisingly good mood. She was healthy, physically, but the doctor prescribed her some vitamins and tonics anyway. She followed Cassian around with a small smile on her face and didn’t notice that they weren’t headed for the elevators until they stopped in front of a metal door. Cora curiously watched him punch in the access code, wondering where it lead. 

The door opened and Cassian motioned her to go first. She took a few steps and found herself outside, on one of the pyramid's platforms. It looked like a huge balcony, bordered on two sides by what looked to be a wall with stairs that went all the way down. They were pretty high up, because she could see above the treetops.

The wind caressing her face felt so unfamiliar and the light of day a bit too bright for her eyes, but she couldn’t help but grin like an idiot. She ran to the edge of the platform while Cassian locked the door behind them. 

“I tried to convince them to let you go outside, but they said you can’t leave the building,” Cassian said, joining her. “Technically, we aren’t outside the building, but on top of it.” There was a hint of a smile on his face and Cora was so happy she could hug him. 

“This is great…” She looked around in awe. The view was incredible.

“Here, let me help you with those.” He unlocked her handcuffs and set her free. 

“I thought I was supposed to be restrained at all times,” she said, raising an eyebrow.

“Eh, it’s a bit of a gray area.” He shoved his hands into his pockets and looked into the distance. “There’s no one else here you can attack but me and I’m pretty sure I can take you down.” She looked around and noticed that the guards hadn’t followed. They were indeed alone. She could try and push him off the platform. 

“Oh are you sure?” She grinned. “Hasn’t General Forehead informed you that I am in fact a really dangerous super spy that can sabotage the Alliance with their pinky?”

“He may have mentioned it once or twice.” The smile was becoming a little more noticeable on his face and Cora couldn’t help but think that he looked rather handsome in the hazy sunlight. She allowed her gaze to linger for a moment, before she turned to look at the view. 

As far as she could see, the planet was covered in a lush green canopy punctured here and there by thin strips of fog. The sky was covered in a thick layer of clouds that diffused the light making it look like there was no sun. The air was warm and humid, but Cora didn’t feel the same discomfort that she felt the first time they landed on the planet. Maybe she had gotten used to it already. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen so much green in my life. There was never so much vegetation on the planets I’ve been to,” she said, watching the fog slowly raise from the tree branches. “Maybe only on Scarif, but there was so much water it looked blue.”

“You’ve been to Scarif?” he asked, turning around to look at her. 

“I’ve worked there for a few months. I think it’s the most beautiful planet I’ve ever seen. I’d never seen oceans before that. I didn’t think so much water in one place could look so beautiful.” The memory made her smile. “It sparkled in the sun like it was made of crystal.”

“We don’t get that much sun here. It’s usually either foggy or raining. But you get used to it after a while.” The tone of his voice was soft. It was probably the first time they were having a proper conversation. 

“I guess you do. On ships you don’t get much of any of those. Just stars. But the stars are beautiful.”

“Do you miss it? Space?”

“Yeah I do. It’s not easy being grounded. The first time I lived on a planet I was land sick for a whole week.” She laughed. “I remember I kept asking them why the air was so smelly. They didn’t know what to tell me. I was a pain in the ass.” She looked at Cassian. “Where are you from?”

The mood changed in a fraction of a second. “Fest,” he replied, but moved his gaze to look in the distance. The smile was gone and Cora couldn’t identify the expression that had taken its place. “It’s… frozen,” he said after a few moments, but then he fell silent again.

Cora didn’t know what to make of that silence, but she felt a little awkward, so she tried changing the subject to something more light hearted.

“I really liked Doctor Crane,” she said, smiling. “He seems like a nice person.”

“Yes, he’s a good man,” Cassian replied, but he still seemed lost in his own thoughts. 

“Was he the one that further treated that blaster wound?” She was genuinely curious. She really wanted to know how his wound had healed, but until now she didn’t have the opportunity to ask. Or rather the chance of getting an honest reply. 

“Yes.”

“Can I see it?”

“No.” He looked at her and the frown has back. Cora sighed.

“Don’t be stubborn. I just want to see how it healed,” she offered, taking a step towards him. He took a step back.

“It healed just fine,” he was becoming defensive and Cora wondered why.

“Oh come, on! You’re not shy, are you? I’ve already seen you half naked, blood gushing out of your wound. Trust me, it doesn’t get any more intimate than that,” she joked, trying to lighten the mood. 

“I’m not shy. But there are some boundaries and you’re crossing them right now.” 

“I’m a doctor, you’re my patient, I’m not crossing any line.” She was starting to get a little annoyed with the vehemence with which he was denying her request. “I have every right to check up on you.”

“Well, I’m fine, but not thanks to you!” he barked.

She looked at him shocked. “What the fuck does that mean?” She was aware that she was raising her voice, but there was no one there to see them anyway. “If it weren’t for me you would have died. Show a little gratitude,” she spat.

“Oh I so am grateful that I nearly died afterwards anyway!” he snapped back at her.

Cora was left speechless for a moment, not understanding where that came from. “You didn’t go to the medic when you got on base,” it finally dawned her. “How the fuck did you think you’d be able to survive a blaster wound with only emergency stitching, you dumbass? That’s only meant to hold until you can get proper care!” she yelled. She was downright angry. How did he have the nerve to insult her skill when it was his own fault he nearly died the second time from the same injury.

“You didn’t tell me it was only emergency treatment.”

“Well maybe I would have if you hadn’t knocked me out the moment we got on your ship. I even had a fucking portable healing field generator in my bag! Which I really hope they take good care of because it was very hard to steal,” she yelled, pointing an accusing finger at his nose. “I didn’t tell him,” she mumbled to herself. “What the fuck did they even teach you in the army? First aid, have you heard of it? Or are you so stupid they don’t even bother?”

Cassian looked like he was about to say something to but instead he grabbed her wrists and slipped on the handcuffs. “Ok, your break is over.” His voice was full of spite. “You’re going back to your cell.”

“Fine!” She snorted. The idea of throwing him off the platform had suddenly become enticing, even if that meant she’d fall to her death too. He was already dragging her inside.

“Take her back to the cell and lock her up,” he ordered, taking off in a hurry. 

Cora pinched the bridge of her nose sensing that a headache was forming. She cursed mentally. It had the potential to be such a good day and now it was ruined thanks to that stubborn asshole.

“Is he always that infuriating?” she asked the female guard when they entered the elevator. For a long moment she seemed to ignore her, but in the end she gave an almost imperceptible nod. 

“Heavens.”

 

*

 

Doctor Crane was cleaning the operating room alongside the med droids when Senator Bail Organa came in. His face erupted into a jovial smile when he saw his old comrade.

“Derin, my friend,” he greeted him. “Always working. Do you ever take some time off?”

“I could ask you the same question,” the doctor smiled back, as he finished gathering all the used tools and giving them to a med droid to sterilize them. “But I won’t deny it’s been harder to take any time off lately.”

“I’ve heard what happened. I’m sorry,” he said with a stern face. “It must have left you with a shortage of staff.”

“Indeed. And the superiors assigned a few of the ones we have left to another base… I don’t want to speak ill about anyone, especially not about the Council, I’m sorry,” he excused himself.

“It’s alright. I am part of the council and I have to listen to every complaint,” the senator laughed. 

The doctor returned the smile. “It’s just that I think that soon enough I may have to sleep in one of the recovery rooms and be on call every minute. And I’m old, Bail. I don’t have the same endurance as before.”

“I’m sorry, my friend. I’ll see what I can do.”

“Since you are here,” the doctor guided him outside of the operating room to let the droids finish disinfecting. “I have a favour to ask…”


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again and sorry for the wait! The chapter is a little shorter, I had intended to post it at the same time with chapter 8, but I didn't have the time to edit that one yet. Depending how fast I'll be able to write Ch.9, I will try to post that one earlier. It remains to be seen though. If not, please have patience until next Sunday. Thank you all for reading and for the love! (I promise there will be more Cassian in the next chapter)
> 
> Special thanks to my special person Hexell and themostmarvelousimagines.

Cassian didn’t come to see her the next few days so Cora was left wondering if he was still mad at her or if he was just being busy. It was hard to admit that she was feeling guilty about what she said to him, but it was the truth. She felt insulted, so she insulted back. Reflecting on what had happened, she should have handled the whole situation like an adult, apologize even if it wasn’t her fault, smile and make peace. But she was sick and tired of that. While working for the Imperial Army she always did her best to behave, be a model employee, hoping that in that way she could make her father proud. Right now she didn’t care anymore. The only freedom she had left was the freedom to speak her mind. 

But she still felt a little guilty. He had been really nice to her lately. There may have been some ulterior motive behind that, because being friendly was giving him a better chance of finding out her secrets, but Cora was grateful anyway. He could have taken a totally different approach and bring out the torture, so she didn’t complain about the niceness. Besides, she didn’t have much to hide. Even if she agreed to contact her father to try and lure him into a trap, she was sure he’d never come to her aid, so their efforts to get that information out of her were in vain.

At the same time his stubbornness was getting on her nerves. She’d seen hints of it since she’d first met him, like when he refused to be put on an IV, but she didn’t know just how headstrong he could be. Right now it seemed to her that whenever she was trying to get a little closer to him he’d sprout thorns and turn into a cactus. In a way it was understandable, she was a stranger, an enemy even, so it was normal he’d keep her at arm’s length, but she found it curious how he was so professional with her during the questionings, ignoring all her insults and stupid remarks, until he dropped the tone and she asked something personal and then all hell broke loose. It was like whenever she scratched his outer layer an avalanche of pent up feelings came flowing out. 

She realized she was thinking and maybe overthinking and most certainly making assumptions about Cassian last name Andor (thank you Doc), but her life had become so uneventful that she didn’t have much else to think about. It was either Cassian Andor on her mind or her own demons, and she preferred to think about the living for now. She sometimes found herself wishing they would imprison someone else so she could be a little less lonely. 

“Do you think he broke up with us for good, Ben?” she asked the lichen in the corner. He didn’t move, which she took as a sign of agreement. “Don’t be depressed, we’ll find a new inquisitor soon enough.”

She was napping when four guards came at her door. The sound of them banging on the iron bars made her jump and start hyperventilating, cursing loudly. 

“General Draven is requiring your presence,” said one of the guards when Cora finally managed to calm down.

“Just fuck him sideways,” she mumbled, but stuck out her hands for him to fasten the handcuffs anyway. So Cassian had given up on her and she was back to being questioned by the milk curdler shaped like a human being. Which was unfortunate for the general, because she was already annoyed by the rude awakening and was set on making someone else’s life hell. She hoped it would be Cassian, but in his absence, the general would do just fine. 

They didn’t take her to the usual interrogation room, but to bigger conference room. There were a handful people there, and they all gave off the impression that they were important. Cora recognized General Draven, Mon Mothma, Cassian and Doctor Crane. Some of the faces in the crowd were familiar, so she assumed they’d taken part in her past interrogation sessions. Some faces were new.

The presence of the doctor unsettled her the most. You don’t bring a doctor to an interrogation unless you intend to badly hurt the subject. It seemed they’d finally had enough of her defiance and had decided to bring in the big guns. She hadn’t thought that they’d make such a spectacle of it, though. She found it rather tasteless to invite people to a torture session. But to each their own.

They sat her at a table, making her feel a lot smaller surrounded by so many standing people, but she took her seat obediently. What choice did she have?

“Good afternoon, Doctor Enoch,” one of the new faces addressed her. He looked imposing: tall, well built, dark hair that showed signs of greying around the temples, perfectly shaped beard. He looked like he had been really handsome in his youth. Hell, he was still handsome, she thought. “Can someone please remove her restraints? So we can have a civilized discussion?” he addressed the guards. General Draven started to protest, but the man cut him off. “Please, General, if a whole room of high ranking military can be taken down by one unarmed person, I think we have failed our job, don’t you think?” Cora smirked internally, enjoying that someone had finally told him off. The general looked at her, and even if her face remained unchanged he knew her inner voice was laughing in satisfaction. 

“I am Bail Organa,” said the tall man, “and I speak to you today on behalf of the Alliance.” He motioned to the guards and they took her handcuffs off. 

“Cora Enoch. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Sir,” she automatically replied, rubbing her wrists and feeling a little more comfortable now that she wasn’t handcuffed anymore. She was really curious what this whole thing was about. 

“It’s been brought to my attention that you have been cooperating with our intelligence officers, sharing some of your inside knowledge on the Empire.” Cora smiled.

“I wouldn’t really call it cooperation.” She threw Cassian a glance. “More like: talk, or you’ll die in a cell.”

“I am sorry, Doctor Enoch, that the times are forcing us to be a little more cautious. We may even go a little overboard in the name of safety, but I hope you can understand our concerns.” He seemed genuinely apologetic, but at the same time his face didn’t show any signs of weakness. He looked like the man that could sign her execution order without flinching. 

Cora nodded. She understood. She hated it, but she understood their mistrust. 

“But right now we need your help. Will you be willing to lend us a hand?”

“Depends.”

“I’m going to get straight to the point.” He took a seat in front of her looking into her eyes from the same level. “Our med bay is currently heavily understaffed. Doctor Crane, I think you’ve met him already,” Cora glanced at the doctor and he smiled at her, “is asking if you’d be willing to assist us. To work in the infirmary.”

“You want me to work in the infirmary?” she asked, narrowing her eyes. “Now?”

“Yes,” he said, his voice determined.

“After you threw me in a fucking cell and let me rot there you suddenly realized you need my help?” She laughed.

“I’m sorry if the way we treated you until now may seem unfair…”

“Cruel!”

“If you like.” He leaned back in his chair. “But I’m sure you understand the reasons behind our decision.”

“I don’t give a shit about your reasons,” she said, pointing an accusing finger at him. “I never wanted to be part of this. I just wanted to run away someplace where I could live peacefully for the rest of my days. That’s all.” 

“Isn’t that what we all want? Peace? Some of us don’t have a choice but to fight.” Cora crossed her arms over her chest and looked away. “There are no civilians in a time of war, Cora. The enemies won’t care if you were actively involved in the fight or not. They won’t spare your life just because you will tell them you didn’t help us. Do you think they’ll spare our families and friends, just because they’re civilians?” He gave her a sad smile. “Remember that for them you’re still a traitor. Your only hope to ever live a peaceful life is to help us win.” His voice was powerful, but it still had a certain gentleness to it. “You have to pick a side. You’re either with us or against us. But if you chose to be against us, then I am sorry, you’re going back to the cell because we can’t take any risks.”

Cora didn’t know what to say. She hated to admit but he had a point. She couldn’t expect them to just let her go now that she could betray their identities and endanger their families. Even if she would never tell a soul, who could be certain she won’t be captured one day and tortured until she would spill all their secrets. She was too much of a risk. And it was all Cassian’s fault. 

She had left the Empire because she was a coward and didn’t want to fight. The imperial army was cruel, but she didn’t know what the life of civilian inside of the Empire was like. She always thought it couldn’t be that bad, but she never really knew. She went from living on a star destroyer to living in a very strict boarding school and then to the army. She was never free to live her life as she pleased, and she was longing for that. Her hate for the Empire, it was personal and directed towards the army. It wasn’t something to start a war over. 

But these people, they were putting everything on the line. Their families, their friends, everything. For them the Empire was a real threat and fighting them was a necessity. She was brought up to believe that the rebels were a handful of uneducated scoundrels who revolted because they hated authority and just wanted to plunge the whole galaxy into chaos. But they didn’t seem like that. They were intelligent, well prepared people, who were sacrificing everything for the cause. Maybe life inside the Empire was even worse than what she imagined. 

Maybe it was time for her to join the fight. Not actually fight, she sucked at it and would only set them back, but she could still help in her own way. She could probably stop being a coward. But the cowards are the ones that survive, cried her mind. 

“What does this job entail?,” she asked, uncrossing her arms and placing them on the table. She was ready to negotiate.

Bail Organa smiled at her. “You will be working shifts in our med bay. You will have to discuss the schedule with Doctor Crane, he will be the one responsible for you and can tell you the exact details. As far as I understand from Doctor Crane, you are perfectly capable of managing a med bay on your own, but you’d be under supervision for a while.” Cora nodded. “We will provide you with accommodation as soon as we can fix some of the old rooms, we’re a bit short on space at the moment.”

“So I’m not going back to the cell?” Her amazement was evident.

“You will, for now. But we intend to move you to a more comfortable location soon.” Cora smiled in disbelief. This was far better than expected. “You have to understand that there are still a few security concerns, but Captain Andor has vouched for you, so I hope you won’t betray his trust.”

“Did he really?” she asked, throwing the captain an icy glare. She had tried refraining from glaring at him the whole meeting, but now the temptation was impossible to resist. “How incredibly odd…” He turned his head and looked away, trying to avoid her gaze, a look of exasperation clearly visible on his face. The tense moment was broken by a rather violent coughing fit coming from Doctor Crane. 

“Excuse me,” he apologized, and all the eyes turned back to her. 

“Senator Mothma and Doctor Crane have also spoken in your favour.” General Draven did not, she thought. “Of course, you won’t be allowed to leave the base and you’ll be constantly monitored. You’ll be fitted a special pair bracelets that you won’t be able to take off and will always tell us your exact location. You won’t have access to any of the databases or means of communication.”

“So I’m still a prisoner.” She sounded disappointed.

“As Senator Organa said earlier,” Mon Mothma intervened, “we can’t take any chances. This is the only thing we can offer you right now in exchange for your help. You can take it or leave it, it’s your choice.” Her face was stern, but gentle. Cora was a little surprised that she had spoken in her favour. 

“You will have until tomorrow to think about it.” Senator Organa stood up, signalling the end of the negotiations, and she followed. “Does anyone have any objections?” he addressed the others. Cora waited for anyone to protest, but they were silent. Even General Draven was silent, but Cora could tell she wasn’t very happy about the whole thing. Or maybe that was his resting face, she couldn’t tell. 

The meeting ended and they took her back to her cell. She didn’t have to wait until morning to make up her mind. She still felt she had been wrongfully imprisoned, but it would be very stupid of her to decline their offer only because they had hurt her feelings. That would be letting her pride get the best of her, and right now it was in her best interest to show a little humility. They were offering her freedom back. Not the freedom she always dreamed of, but it wasn’t any less than what the Empire had allowed. Being stuck on a base that she couldn’t leave wasn’t much different than being stuck on a warship that she couldn’t leave without special permission. The job description was the same. The only thing that had changed was the flag. 

“I’m leaving here, Ben,” she told the lichen. “They’re going to give me a job and a proper room with a shower.” The lichen didn’t say a thing, but a wave of sadness washed over her. “I’m coming back for you, Ben. I promise I’m gonna take you out of here. Just wait for me.”

In the morning, they came for her again. The meeting was short this time, with only Senator Organa, Mon Mothma, General Draven and the doctor present. She agreed to their terms and conditions and she was officially a doctor once again. 

General Draven fixed her bracelets, which were more or less a pair of unchained handcuffs. He even called them so. He explained to her that they will always be able to know where she is at any point so she shouldn’t even think of sneaking away. Also, if she as much as stepped outside of the base’s perimeter the handcuffs would release an electrical current strong enough to incapacitate her. Cora tried joking and asked him what was she supposed to do if someone invited her to a romantic midnight stroll in the jungle, but he had absolutely no sense of humour. 

Doctor Crane was much better company when he took her to see the med bay. He explained that there were two, in fact. The one on the third level of the temple, where she had been for her checkup, and one on the base level, that mostly dealt with emergencies. She would work primarily in the one upstairs, where they had the operation rooms, bacta tanks and recovery ward. 

She was pleased. The infirmary was probably a little bigger than the one on the star destroyer, but some of the equipment was a little older. Nothing she couldn’t handle, though. It was clean and well organized and it smelled familiar and Cora felt at home once again.

The next day the guards brought her in for her first shift, and as she got dressed in her pristine white medical uniform once again she saw herself in the mirror for the first time in ages. She looked thinner, older somehow. There were bags under her eyes and her skin and hair had lost some of their vitality. She looked sad and tired, but she wouldn’t allow herself to lose hope, she thought. Not today. Today a new chapter of her life was starting. 

The new uniform fit her nicely, she noticed as she took a few steps back from the mirror. It wasn’t much different from the one she had worn for the Empire. Similar cut, same standardized pockets and insignia. The only thing that really caught her eye was the emblem on her shoulder: the red crest of the Rebel Alliance. 

She was officially a rebel.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so tomorrow is the Romanian version of Valentine's Day, a very unimportant celebration, but I said I'd update early anyway. I have no idea when chapter 9 will be done, but hopefully it won't take longer than a week. Sorry, I am a lazy writer.
> 
> Thanks again for all the love! If any of you have any questions feel free to send me a message on Tumblr, you can find it in my profile. 
> 
> Special thanks to my fanfiction soulmate Hexell who is currently sick and to themostmarvelousimagines.

Once she got settled in the med bay, Cora’s life had somewhat returned to normal. It didn’t happen instantly, she had to spend a few more days in the cell until they found a better housing option for her and they made sure she understood all the rules and the limitations given by her “still our prisoner” status. But as soon as they convinced themselves that she wasn’t going to go berserk and kill everyone in sight, they let her become a normal human again. Within well established limits, of course, but that was nothing new.

She didn’t really understand why it took them so long to find her a place to live. When they told her they were moving her from the prison cell she assumed they’d give her a bunk bed in one of the barracks, but apparently they still wanted her separated from the rest of their men. She guessed that reinforced the idea that she was still an undesirable person. 

When the guards picked her up from the cell for the last time and they brought her to her new living quarters she was surprised to notice that they hadn’t left the underground level. The room they gave her wasn’t that deep in the maze of corridors, being quite close to the elevators. It was one of the few rooms in a corridor that was now abandoned. They used to have a lot more personnel when they first moved to this base so they used most of the space available, they explained. In time, they spread their men to different bases and outposts and some of the living areas remained unused. No one wanted to live in the catacombs beneath the temple if they didn’t have to. Cora wasn’t bothered by it in the least. 

The room was a lot bigger than what she expected, but scantily furnished. She had a bed, a wardrobe, a desk and a chair, all standard issue and a small bathroom on one end. It looked like the room used to house more than one person in the past, but she didn’t complain. She’d just have to find things to fill it with, to make it look more homely. 

That was an interesting thought. The only real home she ever had was on ISD Corinthia when she was a kid. All the others were dorms or barracks or a tiny room on a crowded ship. They were all standardized and impersonal. She didn’t really have any personal possessions so it was very easy for her to move from one place to another. But right now she was thinking of making this place feel like home. It was an unfamiliar feeling. 

Working in the med bay was a pleasant routine that she had really missed. She was doing 12 hours shifts with the occasional 16 hours here and there. She wasn’t allowed to do much else anyway. She was allowed however to be unsupervised in the med bay, mess hall and her room, so she spent most of her time working. 

To say their two med bays were understaffed was a huge understatement. There were only ten medics on base, herself included, out of which four doubled as combat medics and were also going off world whenever they were needed. The med bay on the base level was primarily handling the emergencies and the small things like cuts and bruises that could be handled in a matter of minutes. The one upstairs, where she ended up working, handled the more complicated surgeries, the ones that required bacta tanks and long recovery periods, but also common illnesses and regular checkups. 

While in the beginning they required her to be under the constant supervision of Doctor Crane or another medic, they soon decided that it was rather counterproductive and that she could manage the infirmary on her own, only needing another doctor to assist her on the more complicated surgeries. For a while she also had a pair of guards waiting by the door, following her whenever she left the med bay, but one day Senator Mothma sent them somewhere else and they never returned. 

At first, the rebels were quite cautious in her presence, throwing her apprehensive glances, but they slowly warmed up towards her. That’s not to say that they would become best friends anytime soon, but they started smiling at her and greeting her on the corridors and that made Cora’s heart melt a little. She even met some of the other imperial defectors who were very excited to hear some new gossip from inside the Empire. She was happy to oblige since working in the infirmary of a star destroyer somehow made her an encyclopedia of useless information. She was also starting to have regular patients, like a certain mechanic that was coming in daily with with scratches or bruises. She had to wonder if he was either the clumsiest mechanic that had ever lived or he just liked seeing Cora put a band aid over his scratched fingers. 

Another thing that changed in her life was that the interrogations had stopped completely. She assumed that was thanks to Senator Organa. She didn’t miss them, there was nothing to miss, but she wished she could have a few moments alone with Cassian to convince herself that he wasn’t still angry at her. He didn’t seem angry, she saw him passing the med bay almost daily, always in a hurry, and he gave her a curt nod whenever he noticed her, but he never came to say hello. She didn’t expect a “Congratulations for getting out of jail” cake from him, but he could stop by one day and ask her how she’s been doing. After all, they may not have been friends, but he knew more things about her than anyone else on base. Except maybe for General Forehead who was reading his reports. 

Maybe he was busy, she thought. From the med bay she could clearly see the officers’ quarters aligned to the left and the right. His was the last one on the right. This was a piece of information she wasn’t very proud of knowing, but she sometimes found herself following him with her gaze. He was usually the one of the first to rise and last ones to go to sleep, if he even came home for the night, so maybe he was just too busy to visit. But she couldn’t get rid of the nagging feeling that he only ever talked to her when it was his job. And now, she wasn’t his job anymore. 

The nights had become a lot more peaceful for her. Cora liked doing night shifts because there were less people that came in for a painkiller or a scratch and she could really concentrate on the ones that really required medical care. Doctor Crane was happy to let her take those, even though he opposed to her working more than sixteen hours a day. She didn’t mind. She liked being so tired that she would go to her room, take a quick shower and fall asleep instantly. This way, the nightmares weren’t bothering her anymore. 

She liked being up when the sun rose. The med bay had a huge window and most mornings were calm enough that she could relax for a while with a cup of hot coffee, watching as the sky lit up. The base started getting crowded about the same time so it was a precious moment of peace. 

She took another sip of coffee and contemplated going back to work. With so little personnel there was always something to do in the med bay. Doctor Crane had promised her he would be coming early that day, but Cora was in no rush to go to sleep just yet. The sun shone brightly making Cora hope than when the fog would lift she may see clear sky for the first time since she had been taken to Yavin IV. It was a beautiful morning.

Her attention was caught by a dark figure approaching the med bay. It took her only a second to recognize Cassian’s imperial droid, with Cassian in tow, of course. The Captain did a double take once he noticed her, and seemed determined to turn around and leave, but the droid put a metal hand on his shoulder and pushed him in.

“...and that’s only one possible outcome,” the droid finished whatever he was telling Cassian before they entered the med bay.

Cassian threw him a glare before he turned his attention to Cora. “When’s Doctor Crane coming in?”

“Good morning to you too, Captain,” Cora sarcastically greeted him, throwing her now empty coffee cup in the bin. “He’s going to be here soon, I suppose, but whatever problem you may have, I can assure you I am perfectly qualified to help you.”

“I’ll come back later.” He turned around to leave, but the droid caught him again. 

“No, you won’t,” he said, interposing himself between Cassian and his only way out. “At the rate your current condition is deteriorating, there is a 46% probability you will be incapacitated by sundown.”

“What’s wrong with him?” she asked the droid, seeing as the captain had decided to be moody.

“Nothi…”

“He has a sort of rash on his calves that is starting to suppurate,” the droid cut him off. 

“Put him on the consultation table,” she instructed the droid, while she washed her hands and pulled on a pair of gloves. “There are restraints under it if you need to tie him down.” Cassian tried to protest, but the droid urged him towards the table.

“Why are you listening to her?” she could hear Cassian hiss as she grabbed the disinfectant.

“She’s the doctor,” the droid simply replied. “Statistically, fewer bad things will happen if you listen to your doctor, Cassian.” 

Cora tried stifling a laugh, but failed. “Listen to the droid, Captain. He has more common sense than you.” 

“Is that an insult?” the droid asked.

“Maybe?”

Cassian snorted, but gave up on the idea of running away and got on the table. Cora carefully pulled up the hem of his brown trousers revealing the skin underneath. She hoped it would be something easy to treat like an allergy, but it seemed that the Captain wasn’t that lucky. The skin was bright red, hot to the touch and somewhat puffy. The pustules that had formed were already the size of a fingernail and had a sickly, yellowish tint. She didn’t have to test it to know what it was, after all she had treated more than 30 imperial soldiers one day of the same thing, but she took a sample from the pus anyway. 

“I have no idea where you’ve been lately, Captain, but you’ve walked into some shit.” She got up and called a med droid. “98% chance of being incapacitated before noon,” she joked. 

“That doesn’t sound like an actual medical diagnosis. Are you sure you’re qualified to handle this?” The droid’s expressionless gaze followed her around the room. Cassian chuckled. “And I can assure you my calculations are correct.”

She instructed the med droid to prep one of the operation rooms then put the sample in a slot in the lab machine. “I’m not doubting your calculations, but you’ve underestimated the gravity of the injury. It’s caused by a poisonous vine that grows in swamps. Besides causing purulent blisters on the contact area, it also causes high fevers, nausea, and if left untreated for longer periods of time, internal bleeding and organ failure. Is that diagnosis good enough?” She could see the frown on Cassian’s face accentuating. She assumed he had tried to brush it off as only a minor injury that was now proving to be a lot more serious than expected. “Are you allergic to anything, Captain?”

“Isn’t that stated in my medical file, Doctor?”

“You’d be surprised to find out that my interdiction to access any database includes the medical records. I guess General Draven fears that the Empire may be interested to know if you have hemorrhoids or not.” She winked at Cassian trying to lighten the mood a little.

“The Captain does not have hemorrhoids.” The droid seemed outraged by the assumption. Cora couldn’t help but smile. “And he doesn’t have any allergies either,” he added.

The machine’s screen flashed red, indicating the toxin that was already in his bloodstream. Cora instructed the machine to isolate it and to synthesize an antidote. That would take a few minutes. 

“Good morning, Cora! I see you’re busy already.” Doctor Crane entered the med bay, coffee cup in hand and his ever present smile on his face. 

“Good morning, Doc,” she smiled.

“Oh, good morning Cassian.” He said, noticing the patient. Cassian greeted back. “Long time no see. It almost made me think you’d started taking care of yourself and stopped getting into trouble.” The doctor opened a locked drawer, pulled out a datapad and started scrolling on it. “I was obviously wrong. What happened this time?” he asked Cora.

“Poisonous vines. He came in early, fortunately.”

“Well, I can take over if you want. You should go get some breakfast instead.”

“No, thanks. I’m good.”

“Are you sure you’d rather be draining pus than eating a healthy breakfast so early in the morning?”

“I’m sure.”

“Ok then. This is his medical file,” he said, handing her the datapad. “Wouldn’t want you going into surgery without all the available information on hand. Take care of our Captain, please,” he said 

“Oh, I’m going to take real good care of the Captain,” she said ominously, looking over his medical file. That earned her a fearful look from Cassian and a blank stare from the droid. She smiled at both of them. 

She was aware she was being unprofessional. She wouldn’t have allowed herself to behave and joke like that with anyone else, but with Cassian, well, he’d seen her at her worst and didn’t run screaming. Besides, she liked poking and and prodding and teasing him, trying to make him lose that stern appearance. It wasn’t a very good idea, as she knew it would probably end up in a fight, but she felt it was payback for putting her in a cell. 

The machine made a “ding” so she knew the antidote was ready. She grabbed it and told a med droid what other medication she wanted put into his IV. She helped Cassian get up and guided him towards the operating room. He didn’t protest. He was actually a lot more silent that she had expected him to be, but seeing how the colour drained from his face when he got up, Cora assumed he was in a lot more pain than he was showing.

“I’m sorry,” she told the imperial droid who followed them. “I can’t let you into the operation room. You can either wait here or go about your business, but Captain Andor is going to be in the the infirmary for a while.”

“Oh.” He seemed to think for a moment. “I’ll be going then. I’m K-2SO, by the way. Good luck, Cassian. Get well soon.” Cassian nodded.

“Nice to meet you, K-2SO.” Cora waved to the retreating droid.

“He’s in a good mood today.”

“That’s a good mood?” Cora lifted an eyebrow.

“You’d be surprised.”

As the medical droids were helping Cassian get onto the operating table and hooking him to a monitor, Cora put on a surgical gown, a mask and a pair of medical safety glasses. In her experience, dealing with pustules caused by poisonous vines was a really messy process. She remembered the first time she’d done it, in her second year of medical school since the professors really liked grossing out the students early on, she didn’t eat for an entire day. Especially since they had served cheese balls with a gooey interior that day. 

Cassian was patiently waiting for her on the operating table, looking a little paler than before. She looked over the monitor, he had a mild fever right now but that may soon change in reaction to the antidote. She attached the vial to the IV and watched as the substance mixed with the saline solution.

“The antidote to the poison is really strong, so it’s very common to feel nauseous or dizzy. If you feel like vomiting, turn to the left,” she instructed him. “If the pain is too much of you feel very ill, please tell me and I’ll administer a sedative.” She’d already given him painkillers so the pain should go away soon, but the cocktail of medication had some uncomfortable side-effects. 

“I’m ok,” he said, but his voice was weak. 

Cora grabbed a pair of scissors and started cutting the leg of his trousers. Cassian lifted his head of the table and watched her work with an unfocused gaze. 

“Are you feeling ok, Captain?” she asked, spraying his legs with a generous amount of disinfectant. 

“I’m fine,” he replied, lowering his head. “Just a little dizzy.”

“That’s normal.” She applied a local anesthetic and started cutting open the blisters and draining the fluid inside. It was a tedious task, but Cora worked as fast as she could. She liked her job, even though at times she had to do gross and repetitive things like this, she still loved being able to help. 

“Captain,” she suddenly asked, “why were you so determined to leave once you saw it was me in the infirmary? Don’t you trust my medical skills?” She felt he was still angry at her for insisting to see how his wound had healed, so she had to ask. She looked at him over her safety glasses. He had his eyes closed so she assumed he’d fallen asleep. A low chuckle proved her otherwise. 

“You once said that you regretted saving my life.” 

She blinked a few times, surprised by the answer. That was really the last thing she was expecting. “You actually believed that?” she finally asked. “And you thought I wouldn’t do my job because of it?”

“Maybe.” His voice was barely a whisper.

“Well, I lied. I was angry,” she explained, going back to cleaning the injury. “Before being an imperial or a rebel, I am a doctor. My job is saving people, friends or foes. My feelings will never get in the way of that.” She wondered if she could ever hate someone so much that she’d refuse to save them. She had one name on that list, and one name only. “Besides,” she continued, “I don’t hate you nearly enough for that.” 

“But you do hate me.”

“A little,” she joked.

He laughed and said something in a foreign language that she didn’t understand. She wanted to ask him what he said, but then figured that if he wanted her to know, he would have said it in Basic. It sounded sad somehow, but maybe she was just overthinking it. 

She didn’t pester him with anymore questions, as she noticed from his raspy breathing that he was starting to feel worse. His fever had gotten higher and there were tiny droplets of sweat forming on his brow. Nonetheless, he didn’t complain once. Cora finished cleaning the wounds and covered them in bacta before bandaging them tightly. It would take about a day for the incisions to heal, but treated correctly, they wouldn’t scar. That, of course, meant he had to stay in bed and let it heal.

“We’re all done,” she told the captain and was surprised when he tried to stand up. “You’re not allowed to get up just yet or the laceration will start bleeding. You’ll be back here in a few hours begging me to stop the bleeding,” she told him, gently pushing him back. “Please don’t be stubborn today.”

“I’m not…” he started to protest, but Cora started administering a sedative to the IV. His face suddenly became serene and his vision hazy as the drug kicked in.

“I’m sorry, Cassian. Not today.”

The med droids started moving him to a recovery room and Cora followed after discarding her gloves, surgical gown, mask and glasses to a recycling bin. Doctor Crane looked at them over his reading glasses.

“You’ve sedated him?” he asked.

“He was trying to stand up and leave as soon as I finished bandaging his wounds,” she explained. “It says here in his medical file that he left hospital early seven times only in the past three months.”

“Well, he doesn’t like being bedridden. But it’s still rather frowned upon to sedate people unless they really need it.”

“Just this time. I’m tying him to the bed next time. And bolting the bed to the floor so he doesn’t leave with it.” The doctor chuckled. 

She followed them to a recovery room. The droids had already put him in bed and made him somewhat comfortable. She looked to the monitor. His fever was starting to go down and that was a good sign. Also the redness on his legs was starting to disappear. It meant the antidote was doing its job. He was going to be ok in a few hours.

Cora dismissed the droids and she was left alone with the sleeping rebel, the beeping of the monitor resounding in the quiet room. She took a damp tissue and wiped the sweat off his forehead. The frown had returned, like he was dreaming of something unpleasant. There were fine lines around his eyes and his skin looked like he had spent too much time in the sun, but even so he was still handsome. Cora brushed a few hair strands off his forehead but then absent-mindedly let her hand fall down to cup his cheek. He stirred in his sleep, but leaned into her touch, the overall tension on his face lessening a bit. 

She couldn’t help but smile, but it was a sad smile. She just wanted to hug him tight and tell him that she had no idea what he was going though in his life, but everything was going to be alright. 

Unfortunately, he was unconscious, she was his doctor and right now she was crossing a line. She took her hand away with faint sigh. She left the room wondering: just how starved for affection was he?

Just how starved for affection was _she?_

“You seem troubled. What’s on your mind?” Doctor Crane asked, when Cora returned the datapad.

“He’s only two years older than me,” she said. 

“Yes.”

“I thought he’d be at least ten years older.”

The doctor looked at her, his expression unreadable. “He’s been through a lot,” he said, putting the datapad away. Cora looked at him hoping he would elaborate. She was really curious. “But that’s not my story to tell, so you’ll have to ask him.” He smiled.

Cora sighed in frustration. “And so another mystery will never be solved,” she joked and Doctor Crane snickered.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your patience and I am really sorry that it took me so long to finish this, but it's kinda hard for me to juggle writing with about 12 hours of work every day. I won't even have the weekends off for the next two months, so if I will take longer than usually to update this, please understand and have a little patience. I won't give up on it, and hopefully starting May I will have a lot more time to write. You can always drop me a line at http://buck-me-hard.tumblr.com/ or in the comments, I love getting feedback. Thank you all for reading!
> 
> Special thanks to Hexell who managed to fix the mess that was this chapter even if she's still sick and to themostmarvelousimagines! Hugs and kisses!

In the weeks that followed, Cora’s life had fallen into a pleasant routine. The rebel base was slowly becoming her home, and Cora was feeling a little more comfortable there every day. She was still spending most of her time in the med bay, but she wasn’t confined to it anymore. 

After Doctor Crane insisted that a medic can’t do their job properly if they don’t have all the information at their discretion, she was allowed to access the medical database. She was still monitored, of course. She imagined that sticking her nose into something that wasn't her business would make numerous alarms go off, flashing lights and all. But now at least she could do her job without any hindrances.

She also started doing more tasks that weren't her responsibilities as a medic, like restocking the medical supplies when needed. Which was fortunate, because she got to meet the people in Storage, and they were nice enough to help her find some unused things to furnish her room. It wasn’t a lot, and it certainly wasn’t fancy, but it looked a lot better than just an empty room with stone walls and no windows. She had some shelves put up that she planned on filling with books, if she ever got her hands on any other besides her beloved romance novel; she had a new coffee table, which was actually just a normal, sturdier table with its legs sawn to the right size; she had another wardrobe, just as standard issue as the other, but she planned on painting them if the ever had the time; a few more chairs, a colourful rug no one knew why they had in storage, and some cushions that could be used to sit on. She never had any guests, so the coffee table remained unused, but she was starting to make friends. 

The first person she could call a friend, besides Doctor Crane, was one of the combat medics, a tall and beautiful Twi’lek, with a loud mouth and absolutely no filter, that went by the name Lewella (“It’s not really my name,” she explained, “but you guys pronounce it in Basic like you’re barfing, so this is the best compromise I could come up with.”). She just came one day to the med bay, introduced herself, grabbed Cora’s arm and dragged her to the mess hall to have lunch together. There was no distrust in her eyes, she just accepted her as one of theirs. Since then she would insist that whenever she was on base, which didn’t happen that often, seeing how she spent most of the time off-world, they would have at least one meal together. 

Another one of the medics who was particularly friendly to her was Aidan, a human medic that she used to be paired with in the beginning, when they didn’t trust her to be left alone in the med bay. He mostly worked in the ER downstairs, but would also take the shifts whenever Cora and Doctor Crane had a day off at the same time. She’d usually meet him when their shifts overlapped and he’d always be friendly and smiling and would bring her a cup of hot coffee or some treats from the cafeteria when she forgot to eat. 

All of the medics were nice to her, and a few even went as far as to thank her for taking some of the workload off their shoulders, so she enjoyed dropping by the emergency med bay at the end of her shifts to say hi. 

“It’s incredibly boring being grounded, don’t you think?” Lewella asked her one day, when Cora had finished her shift and went to visit. They were having lunch in front of the med bay, seated on two crates that they hoped weren’t filled with ammunition, watching the ever present buzzing of people in the hangar. 

“It’s all the same to me, I was never part of the action,” Cora replied, poking with her fork at an unidentifiable bit of meat in her stew. She was surprised to notice, once she got out of jail, that the shitty food they used to give her wasn’t especially made that shitty for her, that was exactly what they served to everyone else. 

“Wow, that’s a pity. What’s the use of being in the army if you don’t get to smash a few heads?”

“I’m perfectly content with not smashing heads, thank you very much,” Cora laughed. 

“Oh look,” the woman pointed towards the elevators with her fork, “Doctor Crane’s coming to visit with a datapad in his hands. I advise you to run before he sees that you are free and gives you more things to do.”

Cora shrugged. “He never gives me more things to do, he always insists on sending me home.”

“That’s cause you’re a workaholic. Hello, Doc! How’s it going?”

“Quite alright,” he replied, smiling. “I was actually looking for you, Lewella.”

“Uh-oh.” She turned her head towards Cora, a look of mock horror imprinted on her face.

Doctor Crane cocked an eyebrow. “I see you’re free tomorrow, I need some help with the trimestrial health screenings for the Intelligence Division. They have already been notified and most of them will be on base tomorrow and the day after. It’s a lot of work and we don’t have much time so I need help.”

“Sorry Doc,” Lewella said, finishing the last of her lunch, “find someone else to do it, and I’ll cover their shift. I’d rather do a double shift, no, a triple shift instead of having to do the same tests over and over again on 100 people.” She shook her head. “Plus it’s almost entirely useless paperwork. I’m a combat medic, not a secretary…” she complained.

Doctor Crane’s brows furrowed and he opened his mouth to say something, but Cora interrupted him. “I could do it. If Lewella covers my shift tomorrow I can do it.”

Cora was certain she’d never seen anyone look at her with more love in their eyes than Lewella when she heard her offer. “I know you’re the nicest friend there is and you’d do anything for me, but I have to warn you it’s the most boring thing in the world.”

Cora laughed. “It’s ok. We had almost 10000 stormtroopers on a ship, imagine doing their checkups. I’m used to it.” 

“Kriff!” Lewella looked disgusted. 

“If it’s ok with you Doc, I’ll do it,” she told the doctor, who was still glaring at the Twi’lek. 

“It’s for the best,” Lewella added. “I may have to fly soon anyway. It’s rumoured that we’ll take off two days from now.”

“Alright,” Doctor Crane gave up, letting out a frustrated sigh. No matter how hard he tried to look tough, he could never stay mad at the younger doctors. “But I do expect you to show up early and do your job properly. That includes all the paperwork,” he said, pointing a finger at her.

“Sir, yes Sir!”

He smiled, and turned to Cora. “We start early tomorrow. Arm yourself with a lot of patience, you will need it.” He handed her the datapad. “You have the list of tests that have to be performed, I think they’re familiar to you. There’s also a questionnaire that the higher ups want us to fill in for every patient. We’ll be splitting the workload evenly, so you won’t have to test that many people in one day, don’t worry. And that’s about it.”

“Okay,” Cora replied, taking the datapad. It didn’t seem so terrible.

“I’ll be going then, before the med droids start to panic that I’ve left and won’t ever come back,” he snickered. “Lewella, I’m expecting you tomorrow fresh and ready for a new shift.”

“Of course, Doc! When aren’t I fresh and ready for work?” They both said goodbye and waved as the older doctor left. Even though he was their superior, rarely did he act like one, preferring to be a friend instead, and he was respected for that. Even though they always joked with him and Lewella complained about everything, in the end they still did what they were asked to do. “If I get four hours of sleep tonight, I’ll be happy,” Lewella snorted.

“Why, you have big plans for tonight?” Cora asked, turning on the data pad and looking through the list of tests. 

“A few of us are meeting for drinks later tonight. You wanna come?”

“Not really,” she said, not feeling very sociable.

“Oh come on, it will be fun. You get the chance to meet a few people. Don’t become a hermit,” Lewella pleaded. 

“I have to interview 100 people tomorrow, Lew. Can you imagine doing that hangover?”

“It may suck a little less.”

“Why all these sex related questions in this questionnaire?” Cora asked, raising an eyebrow. “Is this a sex health checkup?”

“What? Let me see.” Lewella took the datapad and burst out laughing. “I aaaaalmost regret not being the one to ask these questions.”

“There’s an epidemic of STDs on base, we’ll all have to get tested soon. And I guess we’ll all have to fill one of those,” said Alara, one of the other female medics, who had just joined them in front of the med bay. “Anyway, everyone just assumes the Intelligence Department is the one to blame for bringing them home. The more exotic ones, at least.”

“Why?” Cora was genuinely puzzled.

“Because some people live with this fantasy that all they do is fuck the information out of their informants,” Lewella explained. “I’m not saying some don’t do that, because I know for sure some do, but most of them are way too careful to catch a bug.”

An image of Cassian dressed in an imperial uniform boning someone against a wall in an empty corridor on a star destroyer flashed through her mind and to her horror it was probably pretty visible on her face because the two doctors started laughing.

“You scarred her for life,” said Alara. 

“I’m really curious where your mind went just now.” There was a playful glint in Lewella’s eyes.

“I’ve just imagined General Draven having sex,” she lied, “and I can assure you it’s not a pleasant image.”

“Well, it is a pleasant image in the heads of at least a few people I know,” Alara laughed.

“Really?” The disbelief was visible on Cora’s face. “I don’t wanna judge people’s taste in men, but really?”

“Don’t be mean to our favourite general, Cora. He’s pretty popular with some of the ladies.” Lewella laughed and Cora shrugged. “Besides, you never know who’s gonna trigger a case of the butterflies in you.”

“A case of what?”

“Butterflies. You know, the feeling in the pit of your stomach,” Lewella explained getting up from her crate. “Tickling, growing, warm and fluffy until it engulfs your whole being.” She exemplified by tickling Cora’s stomach than wiggling her fingers away. Cora looked at her dumbfounded.

“Ummm… no. I’m good. I’m great actually. Without butterflies.” She grimaced. 

“Never say never, darling. Actually, you could really come with me tonight, I know a few people who’d like to meet you.”

“Yeah, no thanks.”

“Hey Cora, isn’t that your mechanic?” Alara pointed towards an approaching figure. “I think he needs a band aid again,” she laughed. “You certainly gave him a case of the butterflies.”

“You know what?” Cora asked, promptly getting up and yawning. “I am very tired, I will have a terrible shift tomorrow so I’ll get as much sleep as I can, starting now. He’s all yours, ladies! Have a good day,” she took the datapad and left towards the elevators.

“The invitation still stands, you know,” Lewella yelled after her. “If you change your mind you know where to find me.”

Cora waved and left the hangar. The underground level was pleasantly quiet even at this busy hour. Occasionally you could hear one of the ships taking off, but she was used to that sound. Sometimes she found herself missing the constant rumbling sound of ship engines.

She punched in the access code and opened the door to her quarters. The room was never fully dark thanks to the light bulbs in the terrarium, but the dim light was a little eerie.

“Hello Ben! I’m home,” she said to the lichen, placing the datapad on the desk near the terrarium and turning on the lights. It took her weeks, but she finally managed to take her lichen out of the prison cell. She had to use every ounce of slyness she was capable of to convince the guards that she needed a lichen that was growing on the wall of her former cell. They may have suspected she had something to hide, but in the end they brought it to her. She built him a makeshift terrarium from a medical tank and now he seemed to be doing well on his new rock. 

Before she finally went to sleep, Cora took another look on the datapad. There was a list of patients she had previously overlooked. First name on that list: Andor, Cassian Jeron. Her stomach contracted painfully.

“Please go to Doctor Crane,” she mumbled. “Please! If there is anything holy in this world, please spare me.”

But either Divinity didn’t give a fuck about her pleas or Doctor Crane had a twisted sense of humour, because the first person that entered the small consultation room was indeed Cassian. 

“Good morning, Captain,” she greeted him, suddenly regretting not going out the night before. Being a little drunk would have helped her give less fucks.

“Good morning, Doctor,” he greeted back, taking his jacket off and placing it on the back of a chair. “What did you do to be punished to the medical equivalent of a desk job?”

“I volunteered,” she replied with a smirk. 

He narrowed his eyes and studied her. “You really don’t have to try so hard to get them to like you.” 

Cora threw him a sideways glance. The assumption that she was doing this to gain their trust made her think that he still viewed her as not truly belonging to the Rebellion. It hurt a little.

“I’m not trying to get anyone to like me, Captain. I’m just doing my job.” She wondered if he was going to be difficult. He seemed a little more arrogant than usual and she could feel the tension in the air. He seemed somewhat defensive, Cora noticed. His eyes kept following her through the room, like he expected her to do something outrageous if he lost sight of her. “Sometimes it’s a little more exciting than this.” She smiled, trying to break the tension. She really didn’t want to argue. “Shirt off.”

He didn’t complain this time and did what he was told. Seeing as he probably went through this every three months, Cora couldn’t understand his reluctance to let her check on his wounds a few weeks back. She figured that after so many checkups you’d get used to doctors putting you under the microscope, but she could be wrong. 

The med droid drew his blood as Cora studied the injuries she had treated in the past. The ones caused by the poisonous vines had healed properly, leaving almost no scars, but the skin on his ribs was still a little raised and had a pinkish colour. It was probably still a little sensitive so she refrained from touching it, even though she really wanted to poke him in the ribs just to see if he was ticklish. She tried to remember if she’d ever seen him laugh. 

“Keep putting bacta patches on it and the scar will eventually disappear,” she advised. He nodded absent-mindedly, but Cora was sure he wouldn’t do it unless someone forced him. She wondered if the imperial droid, K-2SO, would be willing to do it. Probably. 

Once his blood sample was inserted in the lab machine to be processed, Cora moved Cassian to the full body scanner. He took his place obediently and waited for her to go on with the examination. 

“How have you been feeling lately, Captain?” she started asking the usual questions while comparing what the scanner showed to his medical file and inputting new data.

“Good,” he answered.

“Have you noticed anything out of the ordinary: unusual pains, any change in sleeping pattern, excessive fatigue, trouble breathing or anything of sorts?”

“No,” he answered mechanically. The scanner showed that he had lost some weight since the last check up, but otherwise he seemed to be healthy. She could see the outline of past injuries and a quick scroll revealed that he had a lot of them on record. 

“Have you been experiencing nightmares, fits of excessive anger, sadness, inability to concentrate?”

His heart rate went up for a second before it went back to normal. “No.” A lie. 

“Have you been experiencing any type of emotional distress?”

“No.” His heart rate remained steady. He was an experienced liar and he seemed to be expecting the question this time.

Cora tried hiding a smile and keeping her eyes glued to the screen while asking the next question. “Are you sexually active?” Heart rate gone up. 

“What?”

“It’s in the questionnaire.” She turned the data pad over so he could see. “I have to ask those questions, I didn’t just wake up really curious this morning.” He eyed it quickly, but it did nothing to reassure him, instead leaving him with an embarrassed smile on his face. “Everyone’s going to go through this, so...”

He laughed nervously. “Why does it matter anyway?”

“STD epidemic on base.” She shrugged, moving over to the lab machine and picking up the results. “Or so they say, no one complained about anything to me,” she mumbled.

“Maybe it’s not the best way to make a first impression.” Cora tried to imagine how different her life might have been today if, instead of almost dying, she had met Cassian when he would have gotten a rather violent case of space herpes on his willy.

“I’m a doctor,” she finally said, coughing to hide a laugh. “I’m here to treat people, not to judge their sex habits.” She took a few steps closer to him. “And speaking of sex,” she smiled cheekily, “are you sexually active, Captain?”

“Yes,” he said looking her in the eye, barely containing a smile. It seemed he had gotten over his unease quite quickly. Either that, or he was hiding it under the smile. There was a playful glint in his eyes and Cora had to wonder if maybe he was also flirting a little.

“Do you have a stable sexual partner?” Cora held his gaze trying to go back to being professional, but failing miserably. There are things you just can’t come back from, she thought.

“No.” He was still staring at her and still smiling, and Cora became suddenly aware that he was standing half naked in front of her. Her heart skipped a beat. Not cool, Cora.

“Did you have more than one sexual partner in the past six months?” She looked at the data pad and kept her eyes glued to it, but she could still feel his gaze fixing her.

“Yes.” 

His sex life was certainly a lot more eventful than hers had been in the past six months, but it came as no surprise. Thanks to the girls in the other med bay she was now imagining that the life of a rebellion spy was full of over-elaborate sexcapades.

“Predominantly on base or off base?”

“Off base.” 

Well, there were definitely some perks to going on so many missions, she couldn’t stop herself from thinking. She tried telling herself that she should be more professional and not judge his behaviour, but she was a bit envious, she had to admit. She had no time for one sexcapade, let alone as many as she imagined he had been having. 

“Did you experience anything out of the ordinary: discomfort during intercourse or after, pain, rashes?” she continued in a monotone voice, hoping he couldn’t read her mind.

“No.” 

“Are you familiar with the usual contraceptive methods?”

“Yes.” He was grinning and Cora had a feeling he was having way too much fun. “But it wouldn’t hurt if you were kind enough to refresh my memory a little, Doctor. You know, just in case I forgot something.”

It was Cora’s turn to look at him in bewilderment. Luckily, she managed to take control of herself before she let out a confused “what?” that would have mirrored the Captain’s reaction to the sex questions. She took a deep breath, composing herself. The last time she had to explain to someone how to use contraceptives was in med school when she had to teach sex ed to a bunch of rowdy teenagers, and even then she wasn’t as flustered as she was now. 

“Captain, if this is a joke…” she started.

“Do you think teaching people the benefits of safe sex is a joke, Doctor?” She wanted to strangle him.

“Of course not.” Cora pressed her lips together and wondered what to do. She really didn’t want to give him a half an hour long presentation on contraceptives, one that she was sure he didn’t need, just because he had decided to make fun of her. She looked around, but she was sure they had no fliers laying around and it was too late to print some. She made a mental note to expect this shit and be better prepared next time. “Look. I really don’t have time for this now, there are people waiting for me to do their check-ups,” she said, crossing her arms. “But I promise I will organize a seminar on this topic for you and anyone else who may have the same questions. Wouldn’t want to repeat myself.” She smiled. 

“Will there be a demonstration?” 

“I’ll make sure to bring a banana just for you.” She winked. He laughed and as he looked away from her, Cora realized she really liked the curve of his lips when he was smiling. 

“Are there any other concerns about your sexual activity which you may want to discuss with your doctor?”

“No, Doctor. But I’ll certainly come to you if I ever experience any rashes or… discomfort during intercourse.”

Please don’t, she thought, but then remembered that he was still her patient and he should come to see her if anything was wrong with him. Even herpes. For a moment she regretted not becoming a mechanic. 

“Alright then,” she said, turning off the data pad, relief written all over her face. “I’m done with you. Your blood tests were good, I didn’t see anything wrong on the scanner, you’re physically healthy.” There was still a hint of a smile on her face, but the tone of her voice had gotten back to being professional. “You’ve lost some weight, though, so I advise you to pay a little more attention to your diet and to get more rest.” She went to her desk and started scribbling on a piece of paper. “I am prescribing you some tonics, make sure to get them from medical supplies.”

He put on his shirt and grabbed the piece of paper, eyeing it suspiciously. She could see he had no intention to follow her prescription, but there was nothing she could do about it. “Thank you, Doctor. I guess I’ll see you around,” he said, grabbing his jacket and heading towards the door. She watched his retreating figure thinking that she may have been a little harsh judging him until now. Yes, he may have been stubborn or brash at times, and he certainly didn’t treat her fairly a few times, but he seemed like a good guy. She really appreciated that he vouched for her when they were discussing her freedom. She was here because and thanks to him, in the end. 

“Captain,” she suddenly said, getting up. “I know we may have started on the wrong foot, but I want you to know that you can come to me whenever you have a problem. I don’t want you to think that just because we met in less than pleasant circumstances I resent you. I’ll be here if you ever need me.”

He stopped and looked at her, a small smile on his lips. “Of course, Doctor. I’ll keep that in mind.” Cora could see how the smile was slowly turning into a grin and she groaned internally. “Especially if I get any rashes or something. And please keep me updated on that seminar.” Cora facepalmed, against her best efforts. “Have a good day, Doctor.”

She followed him in the main area of the med bay, wishing once again to have her hands around his throat, slowly choking him to death. 

“Hey Andor!” She heard Lewella yell, approaching them with two cups of coffee in her hands. “Have a cup of Caf with us.”

“I’m sorry, I’m in a hurry right now,” he said, not stopping.

“Of course you are,” Lewella groaned, handing Cora one of the cups. “So how did it go?” she asked her. “Did you manage to make him blush?”

“Does he ever blush?” Cora asked, taking a sip of the hot drink, her eyes still following the captain. Before he left the med bay he crumpled the piece of paper she had given him and threw it in the bin without a second thought. “Does he do that on purpose? Does he really want to get on my nerves?”

Lewella laughed. “Probably.”

“Next time I am tying him to the consultation table and force feeding the meds to him.”

“Be careful,” her friend said, patting her shoulder. “He may like it.” 

Cora bust out laughing. “Who’s my next victim?” she asked, looking around the room for the next spy to interrogate and embarrass.

The rest of the day went by in a blur and without any incidents. Most of the time Cora got so caught up in her work that she didn’t notice the hours passing. But at the end of the day, when she left the med bay to go to bed, there was this feeling of fulfilment in her heart. She had a purpose, she helped people, she was necessary. 

Unfortunately, that didn’t happen every day. They were at war after all, and war came with blood and death and suffering, and even though the doctors weren’t on the frontlines, they still experienced plenty of it.

There were days when they felt like the wounded would never stop coming, and they didn’t have enough hands to help them all. There were days when they lost track of how long their shifts were, and worked until they would pass out from exhaustion. There were days in which they saved people. And days in which they didn’t. 

Cora always thought the smell of blood was the one that lingered the longest in your nostrils, making your hair stand up on the back of your neck whenever you got another whiff of it. It was undoubtedly linked with the sense of danger and as long as she could still smell it, her heartbeat wouldn’t slow down. No matter how many times she washed her hands and soaked them in disinfectant she could still feel it. It was already embedded in her clothes, her hair, her skin.

“Doc, can I take a ten minute break?” she asked Doctor Crane, after changing into a clean uniform, the blood stained one discarded in the laundry cart with all the others. “I need some fresh air.”

“Of course.” She thanked him and he gave her a compassionate smile in return. He looked a lot older in that moment, directing the droids through the chaos in the med bay. She felt guilty for taking a break when all the others were still working, but the emergencies had been dealt with and she had to calm down before she made any mistake. As one of the doctors in med school always said: “You have to learn to take care of yourself. You can’t heal others if you too are broken.”

She left the med bay and crossed the hallway, heading towards the door that lead outside. She did her best to remember the access code Cassian had used when he first took her out of her cell, and managed to get it right on the third try. It was a good thing that they weren’t paranoid enough to change them every week. Besides, why would they? No one could just fly off the platform. 

The day was wetter than usual, a faint drizzle present since morning. The cloudy sky seemed to have engulfed the forest, making everything look gray and misty. Nonetheless, the air smelled clean and fresh. She took a few deep breaths, trying to calm her nerves. Her heart-rate was slowly going down.

“Rough day?” a familiar voice broke her reverie. She turned around to see Cassian joining her on the platform. His uniform was dirty and he looked tired. He didn’t seem like he was having such a good day either. “This is a good place to clear your head.”

“Yeah,” she replied, going back to looking at the scenery, hoping he didn’t notice the tremble in her voice or the way her hands were shaking whenever she wasn’t paying attention to them. He stopped besides her and she could see his profile out of the corner of her eye. Although still handsome, he had dark circles under his eyes and he seemed somehow even thinner. His beard was longer than usual and his hair was messy. She remembered not seeing him around for a while, so he must have been on a mission. “We lost someone today,” she finally found the courage to say. _“I_ lost someone today.”

“I’m sorry.” He turned his head to look at her. His voice was gentle. “But it’s not your fault.”

“Maybe it’s not. I know we did our best. He didn’t stand a chance, not with those wounds...” She sighed, passing a hand over her face. “It doesn’t make it any easier, though.”

“I know. It never gets easier.” He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “You just learn how to live with it.”

“Did you know them?” she asked, hoping the five pilots that had been brought to them that morning were somehow strangers. Out of the five that came back two passed away in the emergency room, and one on her operation table. The two that remained alive were in bacta tanks, with very few chances to make it through the night.

“Yes,” he replied, looking into the distance again. Cora had no idea what it felt like to lose a more than one comrade in a single day, but she understood grief. She had lost a few loved ones herself. 

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. There was nothing else to say. The rain had started to pick up, but Cora didn’t move. It was fitting weather for such a sad day. 

She felt an arm around her shoulders and Cassian pulling her into a hug. She didn’t expect it, but it came so naturally that she didn’t fight against it and let her head rest on his shoulder, her nose only few centimeters away from his neck. She could feel the rough material of his jacket scratching her cheek and big droplets of rain falling on her face, but she hadn’t felt so sheltered and safe in a long time. His arm was pressed tightly on her back and she could feel her heart drumming against his chest. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, immersed in his warmth.

Motherfucking butterflies.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaand I've finally managed to finish this. It may still have some mistakes or things I've overlooked because I have the flu and can't think straight. I didn't intend for this chapter to be so long, but it is what it is. Many thanks for your love and support, the kudos and reviews motivate me to keep writing this even now when I have so little free time left. I hope you'll enjoy this chapter too! Ciao!
> 
> Special thanks to Hexell who fixes my mistakes and makes me laugh when she edits in FULL CAPS LOCK and to themostmarvelousimagines for the idea.

Cora was awoken by loud banging on her door. Her initial reaction was to jump out of bed and get to safety, but then she realized it was just someone knocking. It took her a minute to make out the time on her alarm clock and she let out a disgruntled groan when she saw that she had only gotten about four hours of sleep that night. It was way too early to have someone hysterically knocking, unless something really bad had happened, and she was completely unprepared to deal with that.

She groggily got up and hurried to the door, nearly tripping in the process, the sense of urgency making her completely forget that she was only dressed in skimpy sleepwear. The automatic door opened in a fluid motion to reveal Captain Cassian Andor who was looking a lot more alert than anyone should have been at that ungodly hour. Her heart started beating a little faster, and not from the adrenaline. Unfortunately for her, the butterflies seemed to be more active during the night.

“Yeah?” she croaked, her voice hoarse and shaky.

He only looked her over for half a second, his eyes eventually settling on her face. Cora knew she was way too livid from suddenly getting up to be able to physically blush, but the feeling was there as she crossed her arms over her chest for a little more coverage. 

“There’s been an emergency and I need your help. Here’s your combat uniform,” he said as he pushed a stack of clothes into her arms. “Get dressed, I’ll explain on the way.”

Cora reluctantly took the clothes and threw him a quizzical look. “What kind of emergency and why do I need a combat uniform?” she asked studying them, completely ignoring the “I’ll explain on the way” part.

“Because we are going off-world.” He said patiently, probably understanding that her brain wasn’t functioning at full capacity. “Now please hurry.”

Her mind kept screaming “why?” in a high pitched tone, but Cora silenced it as the Direct Action training started to kick in. Act first, ask questions later. Or better, don’t ask them at all, just do what you’re told. She didn’t miss DA at all.

“Ok, you come in and explain to me while I get dressed,” she compromised, turning her back to him and heading towards the bathroom. The sooner she understood why she had been awoken so brutally, the sooner she’ll be able to fully concentrate on the task, she told herself, even though the only thing she wanted to do was go back to bed. 

“No, I’d rather…”

“I thought we were in a hurry? It will take me about five minutes to get dressed, you really want to waste that?” she yelled loud enough that he could hear her from the corridor. She listened for any indication that he had stepped inside, but the door closed with a whoosh and she sighed. It was probably harder than that to get him into her bedroom, she thought and mentally slapped herself for letting her mind wander in that direction instead of concentrating on what she was doing.

“I thought you could get ready in less than three minutes,” she heard him say so she poked her head through the open door enough to see him curiously looking at the improvised wiring coming out of Ben’s tank. She smiled and went back to getting dressed. She hoped she hadn’t left her bra hanging around in the open, but after a brief moment of thinking she realized she didn’t give two shits about it. He wasn’t a virgin, he knew what a bra looked like. 

“New equipment. It takes a while getting used to.” She was lucky the bathroom was designed with more people in mind so she could also use it as a makeshift dressing room. If you were lucky enough to get your own bathroom on one of the star destroyers it would be one of those one by one modules, where you could shower while sitting on the toilet with the sink only a few centimeters away. “So what’s the emergency?”

“One of our surveillance teams got ambushed while on a mission,” he started explaining. “Pirates probably. The ship is pretty damaged, but they managed to lose them and go into hiding. We have to go pick them up as quickly as possible.”

“Wounded?” she asked.

“Yes. The distress message said that two of them have sustained serious injuries and require urgent medical attention.”

Aha. Now she understood why he needed her on this mission. All the other combat medics were probably unavailable. “I see,” she said buttoning up her shirt.

The combat uniform felt strange. It looked nothing like the imperial one she used to wear, which was basically a rather uncomfortable armour, but neither did it look like the one she currently wore in the infirmary. It was a mix of grays and tan, much like the ones she saw the other soldiers wearing, the only difference being the medkit and the insignia on her shoulder signalling that she was medical personnel. Also, the complete lack of any sort of weapon besides maybe the laser scalpel in her kit. The material was rough and the design quite ugly. 

Before she left the bathroom she studied herself in the mirror for a second. She looked pretty awake now that she had had some time to adjust to being awake. Over the years her body had adapted to the erratic sleeping pattern and you couldn’t really tell that she hadn’t gotten enough sleep, apart from the faint shadows under her eyes. 

She was surprised to notice the two pips on her rank badge. They had given her the same rank she had in the imperial army: captain. Her status as a prisoner didn’t come with a demotion it seemed. It was a pleasant surprise, even though she doubted she had any real authority. Nonetheless, she was happy Cassian didn’t outrank her. Not that it would make him any less bossy...

“We can go,” she said, exiting the bathroom feeling ready to face whatever was awaiting her. 

Cassian nodded and headed towards the door. “What’s that?” he asked before leaving the room, pointing to the lichen in the tank.

“A lichen,” she explained. “He’s called Ben and he’s my former cellmate.” Cassian raised an eyebrow and Cora wondered if he really thought she was a little crazy. 

“Who built the tank?”

“I did.”

“Where did you get the materials from?”

“Storage.”

“You asked and they just gave it to you?” he asked, eyeing her suspiciously. He was using the same tone he used in the interrogations: monotone and devoid of any emotion. She had hoped they were past all that, but apparently not.

“Well, I did ask nicely,” she lied. The truth was that she had traded in a few favours. By working in the med bay she often encountered people who wanted certain “conditions” to be kept off record or they’d get in trouble. Cora helped them whenever she could, and they were more than happy to help her in return. But this wasn’t something the righteous captain should hear about. “Besides, it’s only scrap, not something that was useful to anyone.”

“I think General Draven was right, you may sabotage us with only your pinky.”

Cora laughed, but a cold shiver ran down her spine at the thought that she had done something that wasn’t permitted and they’ll put her back in the cell. “My abilities in this field are rather limited,” she admitted.

“I didn’t even know you knew engineering. It’s quite impressive.”

It was a compliment. An honest, impossible to misinterpret, compliment. She could go back to her cell now, her life was complete. “The tank’s just child’s play,” she said, trying hard to not seem smug. “The needs of a lichen aren’t that complex really so building something to keep it alive is very easy. You only need to control the humidity and temperature, the light and the flow of nutrients.” She was rambling, but stopped herself before she bored him to death with all the little details of growing lichen in controlled environment.

“You didn’t strike me as the engineering type,” he said, smiling at her. 

“What does an engineer even look like?” she asked, feigning indignation. “You shouldn’t make assumptions about me so easily. I’m full of surprises, Captain.”

“Really?”

“You should see me build a bacta tank.” It felt like flirting. For some reason, talking about engineering felt a hell of a lot like flirting.

“A bacta tank?” he laughed, a disbelieving look in his eyes.

“Well, if you had continued with the interrogations you would have found out eventually that I specialized in life support technologies during med school. It’s half medicine, half engineering, really. Pays a lot if you can get into a research facility. So yeah, if you give me the right materials and a generous amount of time, I can build you a bacta tank.” This was outright bragging. Not that it wasn’t true, she’d done it a few times in class, but she made it all sound a lot more impressive than it actually was. Most of it was just assembling parts and heavy cursing. 

“Maybe I should go back to interrogating you.” There was a thoughtful note in his voice but also a tiny smile on his face, so Cora couldn’t figure out if he was serious about it or not.

“Then you should know that I’m a lot more talkative over coffee,” she said on a whim. 

Her own brain started screaming at her. Did she really just hint that he should take her out for coffee? Was it the early hour and the lack of sleep that was making her bolder than usual? Was she aware of the consequences of that proposition?

He laughed and avoided her gaze for a moment. “I’ll keep that in mind.” Yeah, he got the hint.

“And speaking of interrogations, how am I allowed to go off-world, Captain?” she said, bringing the topic to a more familiar territory. “Thought if I left the perimeter I’d get zapped.”

“You got special permission just this time,” he said, his face serious again, every hint of awkwardness gone. “You’re the only doctor with combat experience that’s still on base, except for Doctor Crane. They agreed to let you come with me on this mission given that you don’t try to run away. The parameters of your bracelets have already been modified.”

“So if I wander away from you I’ll be zapped?”

“No,” he said, shaking his head. “I’ll shoot you.”

“Alright! Glad we got that out of the way.” 

The hangar was quieter than usual, but even so it was pretty lively. The ships looked like sinister dark shapes looming in the distance, but to Cora their outline was a familiar sight. She glanced towards the ER. It was brightly lit, but no doctor could be seen through the glass doors or lounging on the crates in front of the med bay with a hot cup of coffee in hands like they did when they had some free time.

They were headed towards a U-Wing that Cora recognized as being the captain’s ship of choice. It looked slightly battered, like pretty much all the ships that the Rebellion used. It was a pleasant change from the pristine condition in which they kept them on the star destroyer. The scratches and dents gave them some personality. 

K-2SO was waiting for them in front of the ship, looking just as black and expressionless as always, towering over Cora when they approached. 

“I want to let you know that I think this is a bad idea,” he said as Cora followed Cassian inside the ship.

“And why do you think that?” Cora couldn’t help but ask, taken aback by his frankness. 

“There is a high possibility that you will attack us trying to take control of the ship and escape,” he said monotonously, like he was talking about the weather and not accusing her of possible treason in the near future.

“With my bare hands?” she asked, showing him that she was unarmed. “I mean I could tickle you to death, but I can’t tickle two people at the same time and by the...”

“I am not ticklish,” the droid stopped her rant.

Cassian snorted. “Hurry up already, I’m closing the door.” 

Cora noticed that he had already taken the pilot seat and was getting the ship ready for takeoff, so she put down the medkit and strapped herself securely in one of the crew chairs. K-2SO, still mumbling about something, took the co-pilot seat, and Cora had to admit she was feeling a little jealous. She missed being able to fly a ship. She hadn’t done it in years, but she remembered the thrill like it was yesterday. 

The ship started to vibrate as they took off and Cora felt a pleasant rush of endorphins. She was finally leaving the moon, going into space again, even if it was for a short time. She could see the stars again. She could breathe.

The ship was just as shabby on the inside as it was on the outside. It wasn’t nearly as clean as she expected someone’s ship to be and was already showing signs of wear. It wasn’t such an old model, but it looked like it had been extensively used. The back had been modified, probably to make room for some sort of living space, and there were a lot of little things that she didn’t remember to be part of the original design.

She found herself wishing this was her ship so she could clean it properly and fix it and polish it and make it look and work as it should. She decided that if they ever set her free she’d buy a ship and start a career as a smuggler. She knew jack shit about smuggling, but she was sure she’d do great. At least she’d live a short, but adventurous life.

A sudden shift in acceleration signalled that they had left the gravitation field of the moon, so Cora unclasped her safety belt and moved towards the cockpit. It would probably be a short trip so she wanted to make the most of it. She wouldn’t have time to admire the view on their way back, since she’d most certainly be busy with the injured. 

“What are you doing here?” Cassian looked at her over his shoulder, an irritated look on his face. “Get back to your seat.”

“No.”

“It’s for your own safety,” he tried convincing her.

“I’ll hold on tightly.” Cassian raised an eyebrow. “Come on, it’s boring sitting alone in the back.” He shook his head and switched his attention back to the controls.

“The probability of you falling over and seriously injuring yourself when we enter hyperspace is 64%” said the droid, moving his head to look at her. 

“It’s not that high, I’ll take my chances,” she said, earning another sideways glance from Cassian. “If anything happens, I know you’ll patch me up. But for my sake, I seriously hope you are better at piloting than you are at emergency medical care,” she mumbled.

“Suit yourself,” he gave up with a frustrated sigh. “But if we fail the mission because you’re unconscious on the floor, I’ll let you personally explain that to General Draven.”

“Ok.” Hopefully she’d hit her head and die so she didn’t have to explain anything to anyone, especially not to General Frown. But she was still standing, so no need to panic just yet. “Where are we going?” Cassian frowned but said nothing. “I get it, need to know basis, just make it vague. I should at least know what to expect.”

“They got ambushed near a gas giant,” he explained. “Luckily, it has a belt of moons and moonlets of different sizes, so they managed to evade them in the maze, but they’ve taken heavy fire and can’t return home.” 

“So we’ll have to fight pirates in a maze of space bodies haphazardly floating around?” Cora wasn’t so thrilled about leaving the base anymore.

“Hopefully not,” Cassian said, pushing a few buttons. “I’m hoping they just got bored and left.”

“What are the odds of them giving up that easily?” K-2SO raised a finger, probably getting ready to state the exact numbers, but a short glare from Cassian made him shut up and go back to what he was doing.

“If they’re pirates, high I’d say. It’s just a small ship, it shouldn’t pose any interest to them,” he explained. “They usually go for the big cargo shuttles, quick kill, big payoff. They’re more interested in the cargo than the ship itself, so there’s no reason they’d waste too much fuel chasing it.” He shrugged. “But if they’re not pirates or they have a personal beef with us...” Then we’re fucked, Cora thought.

“It’s good to know we have a lot of friends out there…” Cora said, earning a chuckle from Cassian.

“My calculations are ready, we can enter hyperspace,” the droid announced, solemnly.

Cassian turned his head towards her. “Can you please go sit down for a minute, until we make this jump?” There was a silent plea in his eyes and Cora felt compelled to listen to him. Just this time. She wasn’t unreasonable in her stubbornness, at least not when he looked at her with those beautiful brown eyes. 

“Ok,” she said and moved back to her seat, strapping in just in time to feel the sudden pull when the hyperdrive engines fired up. The stars turned into long thin lines on the dark sky before disappearing completely in the whirlwind of colours. The jump only took a few minutes and when she got up again, she could see the huge planet through the central viewport.

The beauty of space never ceased to amaze her. No matter how much she travelled there was always something new and amazing just around the corner. The gas giant was a beautiful combination of yellows and browns, with the occasional red mixed in and it almost looked like it sparkled in the sun. The rings that went around its equator were interrupted from place to place by what she figured were its many moons. 

She went back to standing near the cockpit, leaning on the pilot’s chair. Cassian let the ship just hover there for a moment, giving her time to really take in the view before starting up the engines and getting close to the rings. She took this opportunity to look at him too, just out of the corner of her eye, so she wouldn’t get caught staring. 

“What were they doing here anyway?” she asked when they entered one of the rings.

“We found a new safe hyperspace route in its vicinity,” he explained, expertly dodging some floating boulders. “Some moons have a somewhat breathable atmosphere and with a bit of work we could install a permanent outpost on one of them to try and keep this route safe. Unfortunately, it seems we’re not the only ones that know about it.”

Small rocks were bouncing off the fuselage as they advanced. Their speed was slow and steady, the ship diligently obeying Cassian’s commands. She remembered this scenario: having to get through an asteroid belt, she’d done it a few times in simulations during her stormtrooper training, but she had never done it in real life. She understood why the army was somewhat reluctant to give a ship to a rookie and sent them into an asteroid belt wishing them good luck. Not that they weren’t capable of doing that, it was simply too expensive. 

“K, can you try to get ahold of them on the short range com?” Cassian said, getting a blank stare from the droid.

“Why can’t she do it? It’s not like she’s busy or anything.” Cora got the feeling that the droid didn’t like her very much. Or he was simply being annoyed by her intruding presence. As far as she could tell, it was usually just him and Cassian going on missions.

“She doesn’t know the frequencies.” He glared. “And it’s not her job, it’s yours.”

Cora could have sworn she heard the droid sigh as he got out of the seat and moved to a device that was mounted on one of the ship’s walls. She got out of his way, being certain he’d step on her and then pretend he didn’t even notice, but then quickly plopped herself down on the newly vacated co-pilot’s seat.

“You are not allowed to sit there!” K-2SO pointed an accusing finger at her and if it weren’t for Cassian throwing him an exasperated look, he probably would have just picked her up by the hair and thrown her in the back where she belonged. 

“K, we’re in a hurry,” Cassian urged.

“I’m not trying to take your place, K2, I’m just warming up your seat until you come back,” she said, smiling sweetly. This reprogrammed droid had more personality than a lot of people she knew, and even though she was sure he disliked her, she was starting to get used to his snarky remarks. She could at least find a little comfort in the fact that he didn’t seem to like anyone besides Cassian. 

“I don’t like a warm seat.” 

Cora looked at him bewildered and opened her mouth to say something, but Cassian cut her off. “Could you both please stop acting like kids?” He probably had enough of the pointless bickering. Cora knew very well that they were on a mission and people’s lives depended on their efficiency, but she just couldn’t help it. It was the first time she was having fun in months, and she was determined to enjoy it. Still, she did her best not to hinder Cassian.

Feeling comfortable in the co-pilot seat, Cora admired the ease with which Cassian maneuvered the ship between the obstacles. She knew the model and the manufacturers certainly didn’t have swiftness and finesse on their minds when they designed it, but rather functionality and endurance. Under Cassian’s command, however, it danced between the large boulders, advancing into the hostile territory. 

“You’re a really skilled pilot,” she said, pushing one of the buttons Cassian couldn’t reach, doing her job as a co-pilot. 

“I’m not that good,” he dismissed the compliment, but Cora could see the corners of his mouth slightly going up. 

“Trust me, I come from a family of pilots, I know what I’m saying,” she assured him.

“When did you learn how to fly a ship?” he asked, not taking his eyes from the viewport. Again, Cora was reminded of the interrogations but his tone of voice was different. Maybe he was just curious this time. She was aware that everything she was going to say was probably going to end up in her file anyway, but she didn’t give a fuck right now. She just hoped Draven hatefully touched himself whenever the file got updated.

“I don’t really remember,” she started, her voice nostalgic. “Just like you don’t remember your first steps or learning how to speak, that’s how I don’t remember my first flying lessons. My oldest memories are of me having to stand on my mother’s knees to be able to reach the controls.”

“How old were you even?”

“Around four, I think.” She laughed at the memory. “I was six, and I remember this clearly, when I tried to land the ship for the first time without my mother guiding my hands and I completely missed the landing pad crashing into a row of TIE fighters. My dad was fuming. He just yelled and yelled at both mom and I until he couldn’t speak anymore. But in the end no one got into any serious trouble. My mom was the star pilot and dad was the commander of the ship, so who was going to complain that they were teaching their kid how to fly on imperial property.” She remembered those moments fondly, even the times they were angry at her. They had so little time for her that every interaction was precious. Sometimes she tried to get into trouble just to get their attention. But even that didn’t earn her more than a few minutes of their time. “My landings never really improved,” she laughed, trying to shake off the sad feelings.

“That’s very young to start flying. You must be a great pilot.”

“No, I lack the practice. I may have the talent, but there have been years in which I didn’t even see the cockpit of a ship. Since my mom died no one really cared if I continued my training or not.” This was something that was really hard for her to admit. She had always worshipped her mother, the pilot. Whenever they tried to shut her up and make her behave during her school years she would always state: “I’m going to be the best damn pilot in the Galaxy!” like it was her shield, her purpose. She could become someone just like her mother one day, someone that mattered. She knew she had the talent, she just needed to work hard. But the years passed, and the only times she could practice was on the short vacations when her dad came to take her away. And that was not nearly enough. “And now I see these 18 year olds flying the ships like they were born in one and I can’t help but feel jealous as fuck.” She stopped, pulling herself together, stopping the bottled up feeling from pouring out. “How did you learn to fly?” she asked, trying to divert the attention from her and her outburst of pettiness.

Cassian looked at her for a few moments, his expression unreadable, before going back to paying attention to what was happening outside the viewport. “I had this mentor, back on Fest,” he said. “He used to let me co-pilot his ship whenever I went on missions with him. It was more of a learn on the job than him teaching me anything, but I am grateful anyway.”

Cora frowned. She had expected him to say that he learned in military school or something, maybe even that he was the son of a smuggler but the idea that he learned on the job while on “missions” was new. It sounded like he had always been an intelligence operative, even on his homeworld. Maybe he was. She had no idea how long ago the Alliance was founded, or when he left Fest. “How old were you?” 

“Ten or eleven.”

“Ten?!” Her eyes widened. An intelligence operative at ten? That was ridiculous. “That’s too young. What kind of missions were you going on anyway?”

“Says someone who crash landed a ship at six,” he laughed and Cora shrugged. “It’s not too young to aim and shoot a blaster, especially when no one expects you to…” There was a sadness in his voice that made her want to get up and hug him. Curiously, she had the nagging feeling that she had heard it from him before, but she couldn’t remember when. They didn’t really have that many heartfelt conversations before, even if you counted the one about sex.

“And they said my parents were fucked up for letting me fly a ship,” she blurted out before realizing what she was saying.

“I didn’t really have any parents.”

She really felt for him in that moment. She always knew her life had been shit and not everyone could understand what if felt like to grow up almost abandoned by their parents, but she always knew that it could have been a lot worse. At least her dad had the money and enough affection for her to keep her safe and healthy. She realized not everyone was that lucky, and maybe Cassian was an example. No matter how much she hated her strict school that tried to forcefully mold her into a perfect lady she never had to shoot a blaster at ten. 

“Not that I want to interrupt your moment of bonding, but I’ve managed to contact the crew.” K-2SO’s voice broke the silence. 

“Put them through.”

 _“Andor! Is that you?”_ a male voice suddenly filled the cockpit.

“Yeah. We’re coming to get you, what’s your location?”

“We had to do an emergency landing on Marques III because our life support system got fucked up. We’ve survived it, but the sun is going down so I hope you’ll pick us up before we freeze to death. We’re sending you the coordinates.”

Once the data came through, Cassian carefully steered the ship and headed towards the crew's location.

“What’s the status the injured?” Cora asked, taking advantage of the the moment of silence. “Have you managed to stabilize them somehow?”

_“Are you the new doctor?”_

“Yes.”

 _“Yeah, I could tell by your accent.”_ Cora raised an eyebrow. She didn’t know she had an accent. _“Well, the only one of us that has any medical training is currently unconscious and not breathing very well, but the other one can still hold a blaster without us having to tape it to his hand…”_ It seemed like he wanted to add something else, but the transmission ended with a “Fuck” followed by the sound of an explosion and then finally static. 

“Kappehl! Kappehl!” Cassian frantically tried to get the connection back on, but neither he nor the droid could do anything about it. “Something happened, we have to hurry! Cora, move!”

Cora jumped out of the seat, allowing K2 to go back to helping Cassian. She secured herself on one of the crew chairs and waited patiently to reach the destination. There was nothing she could help them with, but the least she could do was stay out of the way and not be a burden to anyone. 

The ship was moving faster and the sudden turns meant the comfort of the passengers wasn’t Cassian’s priority. Nonetheless, they were never in any real danger of crashing into anything. Cora tried preparing herself mentally for whatever was to come. One unconscious and another one probably badly wounded as well. The wait and the lack of information was making her extremely anxious. She would have rather been caught in heavy fire than having to wait knowing that someone might be dying and there was nothing she could do about it. In any case, judging by how the transmission ended, they might have to go into battle anyway.

She was not prepared for that, no matter how many times she tried reminding herself that she had the training. She had no weapon and although she could do her job as a medic even if there was a fight going on around her, she would probably be forced to join in and she wasn’t sure she’d be able to stay focused and not panic. There were only two of them, three if she counted the droid, but she had no idea how equipped he was for battle, so they weren’t really what could be considered serious reinforcements. Their odds of winning against whoever was attacking the other crew were slim to say the least.

Through the viewport, she could see the moon getting bigger and bigger as they were closing in. It looked barren, dark grey rock formations protruding towards the sky. It was a lot smaller than Yavin IV, and it looked inhospitable, but since it had a breathable atmosphere it was still valuable.

Cassian must have gotten the exact coordinates of their location, because he didn’t waste any time searching for the crashed ship once they entered the atmosphere, but speeded in what Cora assumed was the right direction. She unstrapped herself and grabbed the medkit, getting ready to jump out of the spacecraft the moment it landed. 

Loud cursing coming from Cassian made her realize that the situation wasn’t peachy at all. She got up and stood behind the pilot’s chair, holding on tightly. She could see the Rebellion ship in a deep valley, a column of dark smoke rising steadily towards the sky. A little further from it there was a much larger ship that certainly didn't belong to them, and probably a dozen men with blasters shooting at the spot where the rebels had taken cover.

“K!” Cassian yelled, before switching the the S-foils into combat position. Cora’s stomach contracted painfully. There was too little space for this ship model to be able to steer properly. Combat configuration was only meant for high altitudes or space. 

They rapidly approached the enemy ship. They had the element of surprise coming from above at top speed and K-2SO’s reflexes were top-notch because he managed to shoot the laser cannons and destroy the enemy ship before Cassian had to steer and gain altitude again so they didn’t crash.  
Surveilling the area a few more times revealed that most of the pirates that had disembarked the ship had survived its explosion and were now shooting at them. The terrain was too rough and irregular, offering too many hiding spots, for K2 to be able to take them all out from above.

“Cora, can you fly this ship?” Cassian suddenly asked, making Cora’s heart jump.

“Y-yes? It’s pretty standard Incom design...” she babbled, not sure why that information was relevant. 

“Good, you’re taking command,” he said, getting out of his seat and shoving Cora in his place. 

“What?!” was the reaction of both the droid and herself. Instinctively she grabbed the controls, causing the ship to shake frantically before she managed to stabilize it.

“I have to get down there fast. Can you land it?” he asked, strapping her in, his face painfully close to her ear as he leaned on the side of the chair for balance. 

“I am perfectly capable to land this ship, Cassian,” announced K2, seeming a little offended, and Cora could only agree.

“Yes, but you can’t shoot the cannon at the same time, so she’ll have to do it.” He turned to Cora. “You don’t even have to land it, just bring it close enough to the ground so that I can jump out of it and you can fly away. Fly in wide circles above us and K2 will take them out when he gets a clear shot,” he instructed. “Watch out for those narrow canyons. She can go fast but won’t take any sharp turns, so be careful.”

“You can’t go there alone, you’ll die!” Cora exclaimed, finally regaining her voice, but Cassian was already in the back putting a winter jacket on and readying his rifle. 

“There’s a good spot to land behind our ship. It will give us some coverage,” he said, completely ignoring her remark, opening the main door and looking outside.

Cora felt like her head was spinning. Her brain still couldn’t process correctly the fact that she was now piloting the ship and it was acting on autopilot, but she made an effort to concentrate on the landing, otherwise she would be responsible for the captain’s death. It was a rather difficult manoeuvre, the space being very limited and her skills more than rusty, but she managed to get close enough to the ground so that Cassian could get off safely.

“I hope he doesn’t die,” she whispered, watching his departing figure as the ship door closed behind him.

“I hope _we_ don’t die.” The droid’s mechanical voice got her out of her trance and she pulled the ship up, not very gracefully. 

She followed Cassian’s advice, flying in circles over the battlefield, giving K-2SO as many opportunities as possible to shoot at the enemies. He was a very accurate shooter, but the ship was big and too visible to take anyone by surprise, so their efforts remained in vain. The only thing they could do was give Cassian some hints on where the enemies were hiding. Cassian, on the other hand was a lot more efficient than them. Under his command the remaining crew started advancing and gaining the upper hand in the battle. It seemed like they were winning, until the ship’s radar made a loud beeping sound.

“We’ve got company,” announced K2.

“Captain,” Cora called over the comlink, “we’ve got an unidentified ship approaching.”

 _“Try to distract them for a while and keep them from shooting at us,”_ he replied, then abruptly ended the call. 

“Distract them?!” she yelled, taking a sharp turn towards the approaching ship. As they closed in and could see it through the viewport, she noticed it looked almost identical to the one they had wrecked a little while ago. Also they started shooting their blaster cannons almost immediately, so there was no doubt that they were hostile. “Distract them, he said!” she yelled again steering the ship away from the battlefield, the enemy ship following closely. “I have a fucking ship on my tail that’s shooting at us! It’s newer, better equipped, better suited for this type of terrain and I haven’t flown a ship in years, let alone race one! People’s lives are depending on me and I am not qualified for this!” she yelled at the droid.

“Welcome to the Rebellion!” he said matter of factly and Cora groaned. 

She tried gaining altitude, but whenever they were in open sky the enemy ship was closing in dangerously fast and Cora wasn’t sure how much heavy fire their shields could take, so she had to stay low and zigzag between the rock formations. Whenever she got too close to one she prayed she won’t hit the wings and crash, but it seemed she was lucky. 

“How much longer do you think we can keep doing this before we don’t have enough fuel to get back home?” she asked K2, her hands cold and clammy on the controls. 

“Less than 10 minutes.”

“Can we send a distress message home?”

“Already sent an automated one.”

“You’re a treasure.”

There wasn’t enough time. They could waste all their fuel waiting for the base to sent someone to save them, but Cora was already getting tired and the other ship’s pilot was starting to learn her flying pattern. With each passing second the enemies were one step closer. She knew that she couldn’t dodge them forever so she had to do something fast, while she still had an advantage. 

“Get ready to shoot when you get the chance,” she alerted the droid who turned around to look at her.

“I would have a lot more chances to shoot if the enemy ship was in front of my cannons, Doctor. Cannons that point forward.”

“Well, then hold on tight.”

“I am already strapped in, what are you…” but he didn’t have time to finish the sentence because Cora steered the ship straight up, making it screech and vibrate painfully.

She really prayed it would survive a loop. She had done the manoeuvre a few times with imperial military spacecraft, but she was sure this particular model wasn’t built with this in mind. She didn’t manage to make a complete loop, but she succeeded to point the cannons towards the enemy ship long enough for K2 to take a shot. It hit one of their S-Foils, sending them reeling into a rock. The explosion that followed made Cora lose even the precarious hold that she had on her ship, turning off the engines and making them spiral dangerously towards the ground. 

This was how she was going to die, in a fucking U-wing, on a barren rock in the middle of nowhere, alongside a sarcastic reprogrammed imperial droid. Could have been worse. She only hoped that someone would come and save the others. She should have asked Cassian for a good luck kiss before he left. 

She had no idea how she managed to start the engines again and stop the ship from falling. It happened much too fast for her to think it through. Somehow, her instincts took over when her brain refused to cooperate. She stabilized the spacecraft a few meters from the ground and let out a loud sigh.

“That,” said the droid turning his head to look at her, “was very stupid.”

“Yeah,” she agreed, still not believing that she wasn’t dead. 

“I think we both agree that from now on it will be better if I take command…”

“I’m in the pilot’s seat,” she said stopping his speech, “I’m the pilot. Besides, I outrank you.” She tapped her rank badge. 

“Rank has nothing to do with…”

 _“Are you guys ok?”_ came Cassian’s voice from the comlink, sounding at least a little worried.

“Peachy,” she replied taking a deep breath.

_“What’s that supposed to mean?”_

“It means we’re coming to get you,” she said, grabbing the controls again and steering the ship towards their location. “How’s your situation?”

_“We’re all done here. We have three wounded that require your attention, Doctor, so be quick.”_

“Alright,” The transmission ended with a buzz. “K, take command,” she said and the droid took hold of the controls. “Land it as close as possible.” The droid agreed and Cora got out of her seat, grabbing the medkit that now lay thrown in the back of the ship and a portable gurney. “And thank you. You were great.”

K2 landed the ship more gracefully than she would have been able to. Once the door opened she was suddenly hit by a wave of freezing cold air. Cassian was waiting for her at the bottom of the ramp, looking pretty alive and unharmed, if a little dusty. She made a mental note to strip him of his jacket to see what he was hiding underneath. Knowing him, he was hell-bent to not let anyone know that he was injured until he would collapse and she didn’t need another unconscious patient to take care of. 

Cassian walked up towards her and grabbed her shoulders, studying her face. “Are you ok?” he asked, his voice heavy with concern.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Where are the injured?” She looked away and tried to move past him, but his hands held her in place.

“No, look at me,” he said gently, trying to get her attention. “Are you ok?” he asked slower this time.

“I’m ok,” she said, lifting her gaze to look at him. “I’m okay. A little shaken and high on adrenaline, but I’m ok.” She felt the urge to kiss him, she had the excuse that she had just survived being chased by angry pirates, but then remembered that she was still on the job and people were dying. It could wait. She’ll get the opportunity another time, hopefully. 

He studied her a little while longer, but then released her from his grip and took the gurney from her hands. “Follow me,” he said, leading her towards the damaged rebellion ship. 

The other ship’s crew didn’t look too good. They were all scratched and bruised, but they were alive. One of them, the crew’s medic, she noticed, was unconscious and pretty badly beaten. She rushed them to get back to the U-wing and take off, watching them carefully.

At a closer inspection, once they all got into the ship and she pulled out the portable scanner, she found out that the medic had a cracked skull and a collapsed lung, their pilot had an ugly blaster wound to the back, and another one’s leg was broken in three places. 

“K,” she asked the droid, “call the base and tell them to prepare an OR for a patient with a fractured skull and pneumothorax that’s currently unconscious.” She gave instructions for the other two patients as she inserted a long needle between the medic’s ribs, sucking out the air to relieve the pressure on the lung. It was just a temporary measure, but it will help keep him alive for the time being. For his head, there was nothing she could do besides making sure that the injury didn’t worsen. 

She didn’t have much time to spare. She finished administering painkillers and immobilizing limbs and sticking bacta patches on cuts and bruises, and when she finally looked up through the viewport they were already landing. Outside there was a small group of people, mainly doctors, already waiting for them. 

“I’m glad to see you’ve gotten back safely,” Doctor Crane greeted her, taking over.

“Glad to be back,” she breathed in a sigh of relief, realizing she was finally safe. “Do you need help in the OR? I can take a quick shower and join you if…”

“No, no! I have Aidan helping me. You go get some rest!” he said, hurrying towards the building with the gurney, leaving Cora behind.

“Are you sure?” she asked, but no one heard her. She was left standing besides the ship, feeling a little lost, everyone else having headed inside. She wasn’t feeling tired, the adrenaline high hadn’t subsided yet, but she knew that soon enough she’ll crash. 

A few moments later Cassian joined her. She didn’t notice he hadn’t left with everyone else, but she realized he still had the ship to take care of. A ship that she had nearly crashed less than an hour ago.

“Listen,” he said, shoving his hands in his pockets and looking sort of embarrassed. “I’m sorry for leaving you alone to take care of the enemy ship. Sometimes I forget that not everyone around me is is a fighter.” He looked remorseful, avoiding her gaze and staring into the distance. She understood why he would feel that way, but in the end it was her fault she wasn’t prepared for the job.

“I’m still military, you know,” she tried reassuring him. “This is what I’ve been training all those years for.”

“You’re a doctor.” He turned his head to look at her and Cora got another glimpse of that sadness that sometimes broke through his normally collected appearance. 

“But I could have been a pilot. Or a stormtrooper. You don’t have to feel guilty for pushing me to overcome my fears. I’m happy I got to fly a ship once again,” she said, smiling at him. Truth was, she had been terrified and she never wanted to do that again, but she wasn’t going to tell him that. She would let him think she was braver than she actually was. It made her feel better about herself. “I’m sorry that I nearly crashed your ship, though. And that I’ve shaken your droid a little.”

He laughed and the butterflies stirred once again. “Don’t worry about it, she’s been through a lot worse. And K complains a lot, but he’s pretty resilient, too.” He looked his age when he smiled. The whole sense of danger that seemed to always follow him around melted away in one second, making him look surprisingly boyish. “You did a great job, thank you.”

“Heyyy!” They both turned their heads to see Lewella running towards them, looking a little dishevelled. “I got your distress message,” she said, panting, “but when we were about to jump into hyperspace to come and help you we got a message from base telling us you’d already left.” She started grinning. “You look not dead, which is always a good thing. How did you first mission off world go?”

“Well, I guess it could have gone worse…” Cora said, shrugging.

“It could have been much, much worse,” said Cassian, patting her shoulder. Cora was sure that at least one of the butterflies was trying to climb up her esophagus, so she just smiled and said nothing. “I’ll go sort things out with the superiors, you get some sleep,” he said before heading towards the building.

“It was still pretty bad,” K-2SO let her know when he came out of the ship a second later, before following Cassian.

“I see you guys are getting along pretty well,” Lewella smiled.

“Lew, I need a drink,” she said, wanting to both kill the butterflies and the part of her brain that had suddenly realized that she had been much too close to dying and was now screaming frantically.

Lewella didn’t ask any questions but pulled out a shiny flask from one of the pouches attached to her uniform and handed it to Cora. She took a big gulp of alcohol hoping that it was strong enough to numb her feelings, then took another one just to be sure. 

She was fucked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For fanfiction related things you can now find me at http://joeybelle.tumblr.com/. Feel free to drop me a line, ask me anything or just say hi!


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, I have no excuse for posting this late, but I am lazy af. Sorry. Thank you all for your patience and support. Much love <3
> 
> Special thanks to Hexell who is still talking to me even though I am a horrible friend and to themostmarvelousimagines.

“Captain, you have a concussion,” Cora announced, putting the scanner down. The diagnosis came as no surprise since there was a rather visible bump on his head. Paired with a broken nose and a busted lip, he looked like he had tried to fight a rancor barehanded and lost. “I assume I’m not supposed to ask what happened, since your missions are super secret,” she said, a decent dose of sarcasm mixed in.

“Mhm,” he mumbled, glaring at the droid who had dragged him to the consultation room. 

Cora smiled. In the weeks that followed the rescue mission on Marques III, she spent quite some time studying the stubborn captain. It wasn’t a completely conscious endeavour, but seeing how her Butterfly Syndrome did not miraculously get cured overnight, she often found herself looking for him in the crowd. During this time she noticed that: 

1\. He had no problem coming to the infirmary with minor injuries like broken fingers, cuts needing stitches, blaster burns and anything that could be treated with a couple of pills and/or bacta patches, but avoided it like the plague if there was even a hint that he would have to be admitted. As a seemingly active person, it was easy to understand why he hated being confined in a small room smelling of disinfectants, but Cora assumed he was mature enough to realize that it’s for his own good. Apparently, he wasn’t. On more than one occasion K2 had to drag him to the med bay, almost kicking and screaming and the only time he spent a whole day in the recovery ward was when he was either unconscious or sedated. 

And:

2\. He didn’t seem to have any friends, besides K-2SO. Not like he didn’t interact with people, on the contrary, he seemed to know everyone on base, but it was always very professional and work-related. No playful banter, no stopping to listen to a joke, no group of friends eating lunch together. He seemed to be either alone or followed by the droid, constantly in a hurry. The only one who seemed to really care about the captain was Doctor Crane. He’d put aside a stack of bacta patches whenever the supplies came in and asked Cora to give them to Cassian when she saw him because “we both know he needs a few extra ones”. He’d stop and examine him from afar whenever he passed the med bay and more than once did he drag him inside because he noticed a limp or a fresh bruise on his face. It wasn’t something unusual, since Doctor Crane was determined to take care of everyone, but he seemed to have a soft spot for Cassian.

“Buttstroke,” the droid explained moving his metallic head to look at Cora, seeing that Cassian had no intention to clarify the situation.

“Which I narrowly avoided…”

“...only to hit a wall, head first,” he finished, earning another glare from Cassian.

Cora couldn’t help but smile at the two of them. They had this old married couple vibe and she could easily see that they cared a lot for each other, without being sentimental. It was a bond created by mutual trust and shared experiences, that didn’t seem to be that easy to break.

“Regardless, it’s a concussion,” Cora broke the battle of wills that had started between the two. “I’ll have to keep you under observation for at least 24 hours.” She knew he was expecting it, but still saw his jaw tensing when she uttered the words.

“I’m fine,” he argued. “It’s nothing, it’s just… I’m fine. K2’s overreacting as always.”

“I am not! Do you know what the chances are to…”

“I know! But I’m fine. Nothing’s going to happen.”

She could see the desperation with which he tried to escape and she felt sorry for him. She wished she didn’t have to force him to do something he hated, but she was more scared of what could happen if she didn’t.

“You know, Captain,” she tried reasoning with him, “the symptoms may not manifest right away and they may hit you when you least expect it. I can’t let you just wander around the base doing God knows what knowing that you may suddenly lose consciousness.” 

“I’m not going to black out. I didn’t hit my head that hard.” He was trying to convince her to let him off the hook, but Cora wasn’t so easily persuaded, even if the scanner didn’t show anything alarming. “Besides, it’s not the first time I’ve hit my head, it’s not a big deal.”

“They add up, you know,” she said, cupping his cheek with one hand, trying to make him hold still while she was applying a bacta patch on his newly rearranged nasal bones. “All those past injuries, they add up. With each one, you’re becoming more prone to severe head trauma.” Even though she was wearing gloves she could still feel the warmth of his skin in her palm and it made her heart race. 

“They’re not that many,” he lied, and it was such a blatant lie that Cora had to take a step back, prop her hands on her hips and stare at him.

“Do you want me to pull out your file?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. He didn’t look her in the eye, knowing she was right, but instead he was eyeing the door and Cora had to wonder if he had the courage to just run away forcing her to run after him and drag him back. She grabbed his chin before he could think about it any longer and tilted his head up, studying his busted lip. It took all her self-restraint not to let herself get distracted by the curve of his lips and stay focused on the small cut. He had beautiful lips, somewhat hidden by the ever present stubble, and she loved the way they arched when he smiled. The cut! The cut was shallow and he didn’t need any stitching, but she smeared it in bacta and put a patch on it anyway, so it wouldn’t rip further as he moved. She applied some bacta gel on other cuts and bruises on his face, asking herself if it wasn’t easier to just break his legs and shove him whole in a bacta tank for a few days. Probably. 

“I’ll come back here the second I notice something wrong,” he said, his voice close to a whisper as Cora was applying the final patch to the swollen area on his head. “I promise.”

With that, he stopped arguing, but she could see in his eyes that he was still pleading for her to let him go. His face was so close to hers that she could just lean a little and press her lips to his. She wondered if he’d say no. If she cornered him in an empty hallway one day and ask him if he’d be willing. No strings attached, of course. No one had time for that. Just a little fun, cramped in a small corner, rushed touches and awkward embraces. She’d done it before, romance was a luxury in the imperial army and she assumed it was the same here too. He’d get a little action and she… She wasn’t really sure this was a very good idea.

She wondered if he knew the effect he had on her. Did he know how weak she was when he looked at her like that or was he just hoping she’ll have pity? She sighed and put the tube of bacta on the tray.

“Did he faint?” she asked the droid.

“No, he did not,” came the monotone reply.

“You trust him more than you trust me?”

“Captain, your job is to lie, I think you see why it’s safer not to trust you.” He laughed. “I’ll make a deal with you, even though past experience tells me this is a very bad idea.” His smile was growing and Cora cursed herself for being so weak. “I’m letting you go, but on one condition: you will stay in bed today. In your own bed, not a hospital bed, but still in bed. Lie down, head on the pillow, rest, you know the drill. You,” she pointed at the droid, “will check up on him every hour. You can take a med droid with you if you need to check his vitals. If his condition changes even a little, he’s coming back into the med bay ASAP. You heard that, Captain?”

“Yes, ma’am!” he said, hopping off the consultation table.

“Please don’t make me regret this,” she said, before he had the chance to disappear. “As a doctor, I shouldn’t be doing this, but I can see how uncomfortable you are, so I’m just going to have it your way this time. But just this time. And if I see you out of bed today, trust me when I say that I will drag you and nail you to a hospital bed until you’re fully healed. If something were to happen…”

He took a few rushed steps towards her, until he was only a few centimeters away. “Hey,” he said, his voice soft and reassuring. “Nothing’s gonna happen. I’m fine, I promise. There’s nothing to worry about.”

He looked sincere, but Cora knew he could very well be lying. She knew the odds of something bad happening were slim, but she couldn’t help but imagine the worst. The idea that he might get sick and she won’t be able to come to his aid in time was killing her. But she had decided to trust him this time so she pursed her lips and gestured towards the door. 

“Thank you.” Cassian smiled before turning around and leaving the med bay, looking a lot happier than when he came in.

“Keep an eye on him,” she told the droid, before he too was out of sight. 

She sighed and sat down at her desk with a fresh cup of coffee in her hands. The med bay was silent with just the med droids keeping themselves busy, but she knew it wouldn’t stay like that for long. Moments of peace, like this one, were becoming fewer and fewer as days passed. And she was right, when she got another break, it was way past lunch time and her stomach was protesting loudly. 

She decided to go to the cafeteria and grab a sandwich or something that she could quickly eat in her office, but Aidan dropped by and made her change her mind. He had half an hour left until he started his shift downstairs and he convinced her to join him for a late lunch. Doctor Crane assured her that he could handle the med bay on his own while she ate a proper meal so she gave in. There was no point in arguing with him since he had already threatened to put her on a diet if she continued to only eat skimpy meals. She just hoped they had something left in the cafeteria.

Aidan was a really nice company and Cora was grateful he sought her out whenever Lewella wasn’t around so she didn’t fall into the habit of isolating herself. She was never one to have too many friends, even though she wasn’t antisocial either. She just tended to get buried so deep into her work that not many people were willing to stick by her side. But he hadn’t yet given up on her.

As far as she knew, he came from Coruscant, but what exactly had made him join the Rebellion he never told her, and Cora didn’t want to pry. Everyone had their reasons after all, and she wasn’t that willing to share hers either. He was a civilian doctor and from what he told her he still wasn’t accustomed to the idea of being at war. They often made fun of the fact that he was probably worse than her at target practice. 

The mess hall was surprisingly busy for that hour, meaning the people had been coming in waves. The kitchen staff looked exhausted, so Cora smiled apologetically and filled her tray with whatever was left. Aidan had already found an empty table and she took a seat next to him.

“Awfully crowded today,” she said, digging in. After all this time and she still found the food a little bland.

“Two squadrons came back earlier today. I guess, like us, they don’t really care for lunch hours.”

“Is Lew back too?” 

“No, not yet.”

Cora was busy shovelling food in her mouth, but Aidan was more focused on telling her a funny story that one of the pilots had told him a few days ago than eating. While Cora had almost finished her meal he hadn’t even started, which was a bit odd because she knew he had a pretty big appetite. 

“When is your next day off?” he asked out of the blue, taking Cora by surprise.

“Tomorrow,” she answered, forcing herself to swallow a particularly nasty vegetable.

“Mine too,” he said, nervously playing with his food. “Maybe we could, you know, go some place. I could show you around the base, the jungle is really nice if you don’t venture in too much.”

“Sorry, can’t leave the base,” she apologized, hoping that the conversation wasn’t going in the direction she was thinking.

“What?”

“Still a prisoner,” she explained, lifting her sleeve, revealing one of the bracelets. “Can’t leave the perimeter.”

“But you went on a mission off world,” he said, brows furrowed in confusion.

“I got special permission for that.” Remembering the mission still filled her with conflicting feelings. 

“Well, then…” He scratched his head and Cora assumed that this wasn’t really going according to plan. “Then we could do something else. I don’t know what else yet, but I think we could make it feel like a date… If you wanted...”

Cora’s heart sunk. This was exactly where she hoped the conversation wouldn’t be going. If she could, she’d just pause the conversation and disappear before he said another word, but unfortunately she had to deal with it like an adult.

“I’m sorry,” she sighed, pushing the tray away from her, suddenly having lost her appetite. “It’s just that…” She had no idea how to let him down gently. It was the first time she had been asked out, to something more than just casual sex, so she didn’t really know how to handle it. She wished she had noticed it sooner, but she could be clueless sometimes. Heavens, she wished Lewella was here to help her out. 

“It’s ok, it’s cool, you don’t have to say more, I get it,” he babbled, when he saw that she was looking down and not saying anything. 

“I’m sorry,” she whispered again, no other words coming to her mind.

“Just tell me one thing,” he said, his voice trembling a little. “Is there anyone else?”

“No,” she said, looking at her hands. Cassian’s face flashed through her mind, but she ignored it. There was no one else. Then why was she saying no? He was handsome, and smart, and gentle and everything a woman could ever want, so why was she saying no? Because there were no butterflies, she realized. She never considered herself to be a romantic or even sentimental. She’d only fallen in love with someone during med school, but he never noticed her, and eventually she fell out of love. After that, she was way too busy to let her feelings distract her. So then, why was she saying no? She could be with someone who would at least like her, if not love her, who would treat her right, who she had many things in common with. Saying yes would be the logical thing to do. And like they always told her in boarding school: “You’ll learn to fall in love with your mind, not with your heart. A heart is weak.” 

But it didn’t feel right. She had no idea what her future held, not that much probably, but she wanted to live as freely as she could. And that also meant free of regrets. In the end she would regret going out with someone she had no feelings for. If he would have only wanted a rushed sexcapade with no strings attached, she would have probably said yes, after all it was just sex, but she knew he wasn’t the type. So it would be better for both of them to just move on. 

“I’m sorry,” she apologized again, when the silence between them got a little too heavy. 

“No, no… I’m sorry. I just thought…” He was idly playing with the food on his tray, not eating. “I hope this won’t make it too awkward between us,” he smiled, embarrassed. 

Cora could feel her cheeks burning. “Nothing’s changed, Aidan, don’t worry about that.” She heard him sigh in relief, but she couldn’t help but feel guilty as hell.

She finally convinced herself to stop staring at the remaining food in her tray and lifted her eyes only to see Cassian sitting alone, a few tables over. She felt the colour drain from her face and her hands get cold almost instantly. How long had he been sitting there? He was too far away to be able to listen to what they were talking about and he had no reason to listen in anyway. He was looking to the side, seeming lost in thought and Cora was sure he didn’t even notice her.

“What the fuck’s he doing here?” she asked out loud, realizing that he was injured and was supposed to be in bed.

“Who?” Aidan asked, looking around, trying to find the source of her sudden outburst of indignation. “Andor? Eating, like the rest of us, I guess?”

“He’s supposed to be in bed, not walking around.”

“What, you’ve admitted him and he ran away? Hate to break it to you, but that’s what normally happens. He only listens to Doctor Crane, occasionally.” He looked at her and seemed a bit alarmed by the growing frown that was forming on her face. “Just leave him be. He only does what he wants anyway. No reason to get that riled up because of it. Accept that that’s the way he is and he’ll be less of an annoyance.” 

But Cora didn’t want to hear it. The rollercoaster of emotions was now going fast towards rage. “I am morally obliged to break his legs and shove him whole into bacta,” she said, getting up and grabbing her tray.

“Really, Cora?”

“He’s pissing all over my medical expertise. He’s gonna regret it.”

“You know this would be funny if you weren’t looking a little scary right now…”

“I’m counting on that. See you later,” she said, hurrying to get rid of her tray before the captain would disappear from her sight. However, when she turned around, he was gone. It took her a few seconds to spot him in the crowd that was leaving the mess hall so she had to almost run after him to catch up.

“Captain!” she called for him, when she got close enough. He pretended not to hear her so Cora grabbed the sleeve of his jacket. That made him turn around and glare at her for a brief second, but didn’t make him stop.

“You were supposed to be in bed,” she lectured him, still not letting go of his coat.

“I was hungry,” he said monotonously, not looking at her.

“You could have asked someone to bring you something to eat. This isn’t what we agreed on this morning.”

“I don’t care.”

“You don’t care? You _don’t care_?” That was the last straw and Cora’s composure flew out of the window. “I understand you don’t give a shit about me or my medical advice, or the promise you made, but you could at least care about yourself. I’m not trying to do this because it gives me a gold star, for fuck’s sake. I’m doing this because I don’t want your recklessness to get you killed!”

He stopped dead in his tracks and Cora almost collided with his shoulder. “As you can see, I’m not dying,” he barked at her. “I’m fine. I’ll recover on my own. Your job here is done,” he said and brushed her hand off his jacket before he started walking again. 

But no, Cora wasn’t going to give up just like that. Aidan was right, she should just accept the fact that this is who he was and there was nothing she could do to change him, but she was annoyed and embarrassed by the whole date thing and maybe she found this as an outlet to vent. Not ‘maybe’, she certainly used this as a mean to release all all her pent up emotions, but she wasn’t thinking rationally anymore.

“Cassian, stop acting like an idiot!” She almost had to run to keep up with him and before the noticed, they were in an empty corridor in an unfamiliar part of the base. “For once in your life do what I tell you and stop being a stubborn prick.”

Before she could yell anything else he turned around, grabbed her shoulders and pinned her to a metal door behind her. Cora instinctively brought her hands up to her chest in a defensive gesture, but even though his grasp was firm it wasn’t hurting her in any way.

“Will you just shut the fuck up!” he hissed, his face centimeters away from hers, so close that she could feel his breath. It was probably the first time she’d heard him cursing and definitely the first time it was directed at her. It hurt a little.

“Make me,” she hissed back, knowing full well that this was in no way a good idea, but she was too angry. 

He looked away, laughing in disbelief. When he faced her again, he wasn’t looking her in the eye. He tilted his head a little and pressed his lips to hers. Cora froze for a moment, taken completely by surprise, but it didn’t take long for her to relax and kiss back. After all, it was what she wanted to do for a long time. Her anger melted into thin air.

It wasn’t a gentle kiss, but it wasn’t rough either. It was heavy with determination and unspoken attraction, a lingering taste of bacta still on his lips. They were moving a little out of sync, as if each of them were selfishly trying to make the most of it. Cora’s hands had somehow made their way under his jacket and were now resting on his chest, feeling his heart beating just as fast as hers. His grip on her shoulders loosened, his hands slowly slipping down her arms.

In the heat of the moment, with her brain not being able to process anything else besides the feeling of his lips pressed on hers, she didn’t notice one of his hands leaving her arm and pressing the access code. The door she was leaning on opened, leaving her out of balance, and only a tiny push from Cassian sent her falling backwards. The last thing she saw before the door closed, leaving her surrounded by darkness, was Cassian’s smirking face. 

She hadn’t been caught this off guard in a long time, both by the kiss and by the sudden imprisonment in a maintenance closet. For the next fifteen minutes she just sat in the dark, trying to process what had happened. She didn’t bother checking if she could get out or not, she was ok where she was. It was small and dark, exactly like the rock she wanted to crawl under for the rest of her life. 

She could feel her cheeks burning. He had kissed her. Suddenly, stupidly, in a remote corridor, not even checking if anyone was looking. She hadn’t even thought about that until now, and she wondered what people would say if they saw them. Would anyone even care, or would they be too busy to even notice?

She didn’t expect a kiss when she dared him to make her shut up, she expected a punch to the gut or something similar. Her life was slowly turning into a stupid romance novel, it seemed. Damn that book to hell, she thought, hiding her face in her palms. She was confused. For a moment, she thought it was an honest kiss, but then he smirked and shoved her in a closet so maybe he just did it to shut her up. He was toying with her feelings. 

As the high given to her by the kiss died down, anger took its place, and when someone came to set her free she was already fuming. 

 

*

 

Why did he do it? Why, in the name of everything sacred, did he do it? 

His mind was screaming for a logical explanation, but he didn’t have any. He tried to convince himself that he needed to distract her attention, but it was bullshit and he knew it. He could have just picked her up and thrown her in a closet if he really wanted to, he didn’t need a distraction for that. 

There was only one plausible explanation to why he’d done it, but it was also the one he tried really hard to deny: he wanted it. Simple as that. He wanted to kiss her. He’d wanted to kiss her for a long time now, but he always managed to resist the urge. In his head, he knew it was wrong. 

At first, he blamed it on guilt. He was responsible for putting her in jail and making her life miserable. It was his fault, he’d lied and betrayed her trust when she needed him most, turning her whole world upside down. It was what he always did, this was his job after all and he never complained, but normally he would be long gone before they figured out the lie. Or they’d be dead. But she wasn’t and he was punished to listen to her accusations and insults. He felt he deserved every single one of them. 

He could see her mental state rapidly decaying. She lay awake at night and only got some restless sleep during the day, becoming increasingly tired. He watched her sleep a few times during her imprisonment, when he came to check up on her. He knew what he was doing was unethical, but given his involvement he felt almost obligated to check on her. He was intruding into her very little personal space and he felt bad about it, but he needed to make sure she was ok and this was the only time she didn’t have her defenses up, yelling and trying to claw his eyes out. 

She always looked so small and so frail when she was sleeping, the coarse blanket tightly wrapped around her in a smothering embrace. She stirred in her sleep, moaning and mumbling unintelligible words, her face scrunched up in discomfort. He had no idea what she was dreaming of, but he remembered the feeling. He used to have nightmares in the past too, tormenting him every night, but at some point they had stopped. Before he noticed, he’d stopped dreaming altogether. 

Seeing her like that made him want to open the cell door and hug her tightly, comb his fingers through her hair until she woke up and just hold her, telling her that she’s strong and she’s going to make it. And that he was sorry. So sorry for betraying her. So sorry for the suffering they were putting her through.

But that was something he couldn’t do. He could accept that he’d made a mistake bringing her here, and it was his fault, but it wasn’t him who was still holding her prisoner, it was the Alliance, and the Alliance couldn’t be wrong. Because if he accepted that, he’d have to question everything he had ever done under their orders and he wasn’t ready for that. So he kept telling himself it was necessary. The Alliance knew what they were doing, her suffering was necessary. 

After they set her free and the guilt subsided, he blamed it on the fact that he knew he couldn’t have her. She was just too out of his league. She stood out in the crowd with her white uniform and very clean appearance, her imperial mannerisms and the big words she occasionally used, that he was sure half of the base didn’t understand, and the way she always managed to look down on people, no matter how tall they were. She seemed stuck up and somewhat intimidating, but he knew this was part of her defensive mechanism, he’d seen her crumble just weeks before, hanging to a speck of sanity. 

But even then, in prison, she was beautiful. Even with the ugly overalls and matted hair, the dark circles and chapped lips, her natural beauty shone through. She had the type of elegance that came from being born in the high society, something he usually saw in Mon Mothma and the other senators, and something he never dreamed of ever attaining. He may have been quick on his feet, but there was no elegance in his movement. He knew he wasn’t ugly, but he wasn’t handsome either. He had a common face that was forgettable in a crowd and that was useful in his line of work, but that didn’t help with his romantic life. Who was he kidding, he didn’t have a romantic life. There was the occasional new recruit who fell for his “air of mystery” as Lewella liked to call it, but they’d get bored easily and move on to someone who was less closed off, less busy, and less boring. Boring. He’d heard them talk about him and call him that. He never smiles, they said, and he never does anything remotely fun. He just works.

So he had this rule, to never date on base. Not that he ever thought of getting into something serious, he was too emotionally unavailable for that, but he had his needs. It was too complicated to find someone on base and most of those hookups ended in drama anyway. He didn’t have the time or the energy to deal with that. Honestly, he found it stupid and unnecessary, but he understood that people would eventually develop feelings for someone they regularly got intimate with. So he went off base, where no one knew him and he could play a role and be someone else for a few hours, get his fix and then never see them again. It was easy to make himself liked when he was playing a role. When he wasn’t himself.

So maybe that’s why he wanted Cora. Maybe he wanted to prove, to himself or to others, he didn’t know, that he could have someone who was as out of his league as she was. He wanted to prove that he, Cassian Andor from Fest, who had nothing, was worthy of dating an imperial general’s daughter. But in the end, there was nothing about him that would catch her attention. So he didn’t do anything. He just buried the feeling as deep as he could and avoided her. 

And he regretted it, because people were starting to notice her. There were already rumours, whispers and jokes, and the occasional bold one who’d stop her to ask a question. If at first she seemed unapproachable, they soon learned that she was in fact really nice. Even though she didn’t have much of a private life outside of the med bay and she tended to keep to herself, she was kind and friendly and always tried to help everyone. So the others warmed up to her. And with Lew taking her under her wing she was bound to meet the most interesting people on base sooner or later. Maybe she’d catch the eye of one of the councilmen. After all, she had the upbringing, they came from the same world. She’d have more in common with a senator that with him. 

But either she didn’t notice the advances or she discreetly brushed them off, because he never saw her with anyone else besides her fellow medics. For a while he allowed himself a little hope. And then he saw her in the mess hall with the doctor. It was nothing out of the ordinary, with Lewella off world again, she would probably have lunch with someone else, but he seemed fidgety and nervous and he wondered why. 

He quickly found out the answer. He was too far away to listen in on their conversation, but he could lip read. Not that he really needed to, their faces told the whole story: he asked her out, turning beet red and she struggled to find an excuse to turn him down, blood draining from her face. It would have been hilarious to watch the awkward exchange of “I’m sorry”s, if not for the burning feeling in his chest that almost left him out of breath. He was angry, uncontrollable and hot, and also a little happy that she had turned him down, but mostly angry. 

The voice in his head kept screaming that if she turned down the doctor, she’d never look at him. The doctor was smart, educated and conventionally handsome, while he was none of those. Why did he allow himself to think that he had a chance?

He bolted out of the mess hall hoping she didn’t notice him, but he had no such luck. She caught up to him before he could disappear in the crowd making him wonder if he was getting shittier at his job or she was very good at tracking people down. She started yammering at him about his concussion like he gave a shit about it. He couldn’t look her in the eye right now. He just wanted to run away to someplace where they’d all leave him alone until he could clear his head. But no, she kept nagging and nagging until he snapped and told her to shut up. And then she looked at him, all smug and defiant, slightly out of breath from almost running after him, smirking and challenging him to do something. So reason took a step back and let instinct take over. 

There was still no logical explanation to why he’d kissed her. If someone asked him, he’d just shrug and look away, embarrassed, because he wasn’t thinking at that point. He was supposed to be level-headed and reasonable, but was dumbed down by a pair of parted lips. 

And it was wrong, kissing her merely minutes after she turned someone else down. And it was wrong kissing her after he had almost killed her a few weeks back when he let her evade a ship full of angry pirates on her own. 

When he saw his fellow rebels cornered on the ground, he knew he had a choice to make: keep her safe, or try to save them. He chose the Rebellion and decided to have faith in her. But he didn’t know there was a second enemy ship approaching, though he should have considered the possibility. When she contacted him over the com, her voice desperate, he knew he’d sentenced K2 and her to death. She may have been a good pilot, but this was way above her skill level. However, if the enemy ship approached the open battlefield, they’d all be dead pretty soon. So he made a choice again, and he didn’t choose her. He could have sent her home, but neither her nor K2 could have navigated the maze of space bodies fast enough to get home safely. He wasn’t sure if even he could do it with a ship of angry pirates on his tail. 

So he closed his com leaving her alone, knowing he couldn’t listen to them die at the other end of the line. He knew they were all doomed anyway. Without his U-wing and the other ship crashed they had no way of sending a message home, and even if they could, no rescue would come for them in time. If the enemy ship wouldn’t end them, the cold would. He knew he had made a mistake, but he didn’t know how to fix it. Should he have just let the other crew die, classify it as a failed mission and turn back home? Had he made the right choice? Who was more important to the Alliance: a surveillance crew sent on a reconnaissance mission, or a doctor and a reprogrammed imperial droid? He knew who was more important for him…

And then, as he saw the explosion in the distance, his heart sunk. He delayed trying to reach them over the com, knowing it was pointless, not wanting the certainty that they were dead. But there were also other lives that depended on him, and he had to find a way to keep them safe. So he contacted them, expecting dead silence, instead being greeted by her exhausted, but very much alive, voice. Somehow they had survived. It wasn’t their ship that had crashed. He could breathe. He was used to fear for his own life, but fearing for someone else’s was something he hadn’t felt in a long time and he hated it.

When she stepped out of the ship she looked like she was about to faint. Pale, weak and scared out of her mind, he didn’t know what to do to help her. He felt so guilty. 

She somehow got herself together and finished the job. There was a slight tremble in her hands as she worked, but she was efficient and didn’t make any mistakes. He kept looking back while they were heading home, making sure that everyone was ok, but mostly to make sure that _she_ was ok.

When they reached home and he was left alone with the droid for a few minutes, K2 told him how she did a broken loop and narrowly avoided crashing. It was risky and reckless, but she had no other choice. She didn’t have the skill to evade them otherwise so she did whatever crossed her mind in that moment. She had been lucky this time. Could she be this lucky every time? Could she be this lucky if he ever chose the cause over her life once again? Could he deal with her death, if it happened?

He decided to avoid her after that. He wanted to wait for this whole “weakness” he had for her to go away. He knew that if he ignored it long enough, it will eventually be suppressed, like all the other things he had buried in the back of his conscience. But his mind was playing tricks on him because whenever he had a small wound, one that he would usually treat with a bacta patch or by just ignoring it until it healed, he would always find himself heading towards the infirmary. She’ll treat it much better than you ever would, said the voice in his head. Besides, you’ll be able to check up on her, see how she’s been doing lately. And so he fell in that trap again and again, hating himself for his weakness every time he left the med bay, knowing that what he was doing was wrong.

But she was kissing back and it felt so right. Slowly at first, like she didn’t really know what to do and then stronger, matching his own need for contact. It was warm and self-indulgent, and he easily got lost in the in the whirlwind of emotions it was causing him. He felt her hands on his chest and he wanted to pull her closer and touch her and let her touch him and get rid of all the clothes that were in the way and just enjoy each other.

Unfortunately, it didn’t take long for him to realize what he was doing and panic. So he did the first thing that came to mind, locked her in a closet and ran away. It took him fifteen minutes to realize that she had no way of unlocking it from the inside, so he sent someone to get her out.

By the time she had been freed he had found his way to one of the temple’s platforms and sat down, away from everyone, his back to the wall, head in his hands, a terrible headache threatening to split it in half. She was right, he should have just stayed in bed. He should have fucking listened.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, a new chapter! Sorry for taking so long, the next one will probably take a little longer, but bare with me. Thank you all for reading and liking/following the story! Thank you for your comments and your support. As always you can find me on tumblr @joeybelle if you want to chat. 
> 
> Special thanks to Hexell who proofreads my shit at 4 am and I love her for that. Iub ben.
> 
> Edited at 6 am, so if you see some mistakes, don't kill me.

For the next few days she avoided Cassian like the plague, which wasn’t so hard to do since he was nowhere to be seen. Once or twice, she even feared he might have died from his concussion, but then she remembered that he had a thick skull, both literally and figuratively, so he was probably fine. 

Both Doctor Crane and Lewella had relentlessly made fun of her for being locked in a maintenance closet, but luckily they didn’t know the whole story. She had no idea what they would say if they knew about the kiss, but she imagined Lewella would laugh her ass off before teasing her for the rest of her life, so she kept her mouth shut, smiling and accepting the current jokes, knowing it could be much, much worse. Even after almost a week had passed since ‘the incident’, Cora still had no idea how to feel about it. 

She was lucky that the med bay had been busier than usual so she didn’t have much time to socialize. She didn’t know yet how awkward her meetings with Aidan would be now that he had voiced his intentions, so she was grateful for at least a few days in which they didn’t have to interact outside the workplace. She had a lot of things to deal with, and in her usual fashion, ignored them all. 

Leaving work at 2 am when she had another shift starting early in the morning wasn’t something that unusual, but lately it had become the norm and she was starting to feel exhausted. 

The underground level was a lot quieter than the rest of the base, the thick stone walls muffling almost all sound. The air was stagnant in the corridors, the new ventilation system not functional everywhere, most of the underground still relying on the original vents. The corridors were only lit from the elevators to her quarters and to the few storage areas located in the catacombs. The rest was pitch black and empty. Without her there, even the prison was deserted. It was a stark contrast to the crowded base above and Cora was thankful for the peace and quiet.

When her ears got used to the silence, she started noticing an unusual humming sound in the distance. It seemed to be coming from deeper in the catacombs, which wasn’t right, there wasn’t supposed to be anything there to make noise. She wondered if maybe there was someone working late in storage, but the sound didn’t come from the right direction. 

Intrigued, she headed deeper in the catacombs for as long as she had light. Listening closely, it almost sounded like… music? There was no way someone was playing music in the temple’s underground levels. There was no one living down there and it was way too late for anyone to be working. 

Curiosity got the best of her, so she turned on the small pocket light she always carried around and cautiously advanced into the unknown. She tried making as little sound as possible, letting the distant music guide her steps. It was possible that the fatigue was making the pursuit a lot more thrilling than it was, but Cora’s heart had started to beat rapidly. It was fun. She felt like a kid again, exploring the narrow vents on a star destroyer. Not even for a moment did she think that she may get lost without a way to contact anyone who could get her out. Right now, all that mattered was solving the mystery. 

From time to time she had to stop and listen carefully, trying to head in the right direction. Sometimes, the corridors seemed to turn away from the sound, but it was getting louder, so she knew she was getting closer. She went down a set of stairs and couldn’t help but wonder just how deep the whole construction went. She made a mental note to ask someone about the history of the place one day. 

It was definitely music. When she was close enough that she could make out the lyrics she stopped. She could hear people talking and laughing. It seemed like there was some gathering taking place deep in the catacombs. Music, laughter and probably drinks. She didn’t have to go any further and accidentally crash their party to prove her theory right. So she turned around, wanting to return to her quarters as quickly as possible because she had already wasted enough time, and crashed into someone.

“Whoa, there!” he said, catching her by the shoulders, steadying her before she face-planted. “Who are you?” He turned on a flashlight and shone it into her eyes for a few seconds before turning it off again. “Oh! You’re the new doctor!” he exclaimed, seeming a little amused.

Cora blinked a few times, her eyes hurting from the sudden exposure to light. “I’ve been here for a while now, why am I still ‘the new doctor’?” she mumbled, rubbing her eyes vigorously. She couldn't see who she was talking to, but his voice was unfamiliar. 

“Cause I haven’t met you yet,” he laughed. “Sergeant Ruescott Melshi, but call me Melshi.”

Nope, she didn’t know him. “Cora Enoch.”

“Now let’s hurry and get a drink before the bastards finish everything.” He placed a hand on her back trying to gently push her towards where the music was coming from. Cora was taken by surprise, so she took a few steps before stopping again.

“Umm…” She tried brushing off his hand. “I’m not coming, I’m sorry. I just heard the music and I was curious what it was, but I found out, so I’m turning back now…”

“Well, you’re already here, so why not come inside? This is the best makeshift bar in the whole base, after all,” he bragged.

“Ah, no thanks. I have an early shift tomorrow and I should be sleeping. Thank you for the invitation though,” she said, taking a step back, but he cut her off.

“Just one drink, Doctor. It will help you sleep better,” he didn’t give up and his insistence was starting to get a little irritating.

“I really shouldn’t…” she tried excusing herself, as politely as she could.

“You’re not getting away until you have at least one drink with us.”

“Why do you keep insisting?” she finally snapped. 

“In case you get the idea of reporting us for drinking on base, I have to make sure you’ll go down with us.” His voice sounded a little ominous, but then he started laughing once again. “Don’t worry Doc, we don’t bite. Plus you already know some of us.”

Ok, that made sense. Sort of. She knew that drinking was restricted on the base, but she also knew that no one respected that rule, on the contrary, seeing how many hangovers she had to treat weekly. She had no intention to report anyone, they were free to do whatever they wanted in the end, but she understood his concerns so she stopped resisting and followed him down the dark corridor. 

Light was pouring out of an open door, her flashlight suddenly useless. Her eyes had time to adjust to the brightness, so when she stepped into the well lit room she wasn’t blinded. It was a medium sized room, carved in stone like the rest of the ones Cora had seen in the catacombs. To the side there was a raised stone structure that, from the stools around it, she assumed they were using as a bar. There was an old jukebox in a corner, blaring some crappy galactic pop. There were a few tables and chairs scattered around the room, with most people crowded around one in the back. Every piece of furniture seemed to have been taken from the things no one needed in storage, pretty much like the ones in her room. There were no two tables looking the same, and everything looked improvised, from the bar stools to the lighting fixtures on the walls.

Melshi greeted a couple of people sitting at a table by the door then guided her towards the bar. Cora awkwardly climbed onto a stool, and propped her elbows on the stone table. 

“So, what can I get you, miss?” he winked and went around the bar.

“What are my options?” she asked smiling. She had no plans to drink tonight, but she guessed she had to oblige just this once. If she was already here she could at least enjoy it. 

“Well,” he said, looking under the bar, “we have jet juice…” He took out a bottle of liqueur of dubious origin and put it in front of her. “And slightly shittier jet juice.” The second bottle looked a little murkier than the first, and Cora looked at it suspiciously.

“I think I’ll take the jet juice,” she said, suddenly not so convinced that this was a good idea.

“Excellent choice, Doctor. You seem to have good taste in drinks.”

He started pouring a copious amount of liquor from the first bottle into two standard metal cups and offered one to Cora. She tentatively took it and even though she knew it was not the most polite thing to do, she took a whiff. It smelled horrible. She had only heard about jet juice since she came to Yavin IV, but she never imagined it would actually smell like it had been brewed inside an engine.

“Is it your first time?” he asked, amused, pointing at her drink.

“Yeah…” she grimaced.

The crowd in the back of the room erupted in a fit of laughter and Cora turned her head to look. They were playing some sort of game and someone seemed to be on a winning streak. Her heart jumped out of her chest when she noticed Cassian at the edge of the crowd, arms crossed over his chest, laughing wholeheartedly. Shit. The one person she didn’t expect to see in the middle of a dive bar and really really wanted to avoid was just standing there, looking better than ever.

She took the metal cup to her lips and took a big gulp, ignoring the pungent taste, trying to drink it as fast as possible and be gone before he noticed her. 

“Whoa, slow down Doc, you need to take your time and enjoy the wretched aroma…” Melshi laughed at her efforts, but Cora didn’t listen.

“No, sorry, early shift tomorrow, gotta go,” she babbled, downing the rest of the drink in one big gulp feeling it burn her throat. She would have to explain to Doctor Crane tomorrow why she needed an esophagus transplant.

“Cora!” she heard Lewella’s voice booming over the cacophony of sounds in the room. Cora groaned audibly, as almost everyone turned around to look at her. So much for leaving unnoticed.

Lewella emerged from the crowd and joined her at the bar, a similar metal cup in her hand. “I’ve been trying to convince you to come with me for weeks and you kept declining and now I see you with Melshi?” she whined, resting a hand on Cora’s shoulder. “I’m hurt you know…”

“She came on her own,” Melshi clarified. “I found her lurking in the shadows.”

“Yeah he kidnapped me. I would have never came here on my own accord,” she assured her, smiling. “I see you’re free tomorrow?” Cora asked eyeing Lewella’s already empty cup, thinking of the horrible shift she had the next day. She was already starting to feel the alcohol going to her head.

“No, I’m leaving in a few hours, whenever your favorite general decides to ship us.”

Cora raised an eyebrow. She tried not to judge people and their choices, but she couldn’t help but feel a little worried. She knew that you needed to be alert and well rested during missions and alcohol combined with little to no sleep was a recipe for disaster.

“Oh stop being the mom friend,” Lewella said, noticing her expression. “I’m going to bed in five minutes.”

“Yeah, me too. I have a shift tomorrow morning.” Cora tried getting up the stool, but Lewella’s hand pushed her back. 

“You know what? You just got here, so why not stay a little while longer? Another drink won’t kill you,” Lewella said, but Cora was convinced of the opposite. “You should meet everyone, make some friends. Sorry that I can’t stay longer to introduce you, but this is your fault for not coming when I invited you. Anyway, I’m leaving you in good hands…” She looked at Melshi, who was grinning and shook her head. “Actually, I’ve changed my mind. Andor!” she yelled over the music. “Come here a sec.”

Cora wanted to be able to completely disappear or spontaneously combust or something. Anything, really, just to not have to interact with Cassian. But he had already turned around and was coming towards them. Melshi probably noticed her discomfort because he refilled her cup and pushed it towards her. Cora sent him a thank you smile.

“See my girl here, Andor? You owe her an apology.” Lewella’s hand was around Cora’s shoulders, pulling her into an embrace. “For locking her in a maintenance closet.” Cora felt how her face was reddening. The alcohol was doing a great job on its own and with the added embarrassment Cora feared she’ll be tomato red in no time.

She only had the courage to look at Cassian out of the corner of her eye, but he wasn’t directly looking at her either. He had his arms crossed over his chest and a cheeky grin on his face. The blush and the slightly unfocused gaze could have been an indication that he too had been drinking. Cora took another sip of the foul tasting liquid, trying to swallow the knot that had formed in her throat.

“I have to go now, so I’m leaving her in your care, Andor,” she said, pointing a finger at him. “Make sure she gets back safely and she doesn’t drink too much. If she does, tell Doctor Crane that she’s having a sudden and inexplicable case of veisalgia that has her incapacitated.”

“Oh, no! No no no!” Cora tried protesting, but a dirty look from Lewella silenced her.

“Does she really need a babysitter, though?” he asked, his accent a little more pronounced than usually. 

“Of course she doesn’t, but you’ve been an ass so it’s your chance to make it up to her. Plus, I’m not leaving her here completely alone…”

“Wait, am I no one?” Melshi intervened, a little outraged by the assumption. 

“You’re shady,” Lewella said, eyeing him sideways and Cora couldn’t help but laugh. He was indeed a little shady.

“And you’re trying to tell me he’s not?” Melshi said, pointing at the captain over the stone table. “He’s the fucking definition of shady!” Cassian was laughing, and Cora wondered if she had ever seen him so at ease around people. 

“Yeah, but I know him and he’s harmless. On the other hand, you’re a lot more untrustworthy than you look.”

“You’ve hurt me. Right in the feelings, Lewella,” he said, pouring some liquor into another cup and offering it to Cassian. “And he’s a lot less harmless than you think. Trust me,” he added, before leaving the bar to pass the bottle to someone who was accusing them of hogging the alcohol.

“Alright, I’m going,” Lewella finally said the dreaded words and Cora wanted to latch onto her arm and cry so she wouldn’t leave her alone with Cassian, but that would raise a lot of suspicion and she wasn’t ready to explain. She smiled, stoically, and decided to finish her drink and excuse herself after that. She would survive five minutes in Cassian’s proximity. Probably. Hopefully.

“Stay safe tomorrow,” she told her friend, earning a smile from the Twi’lek.

“I will, don’t worry,” she assured her. “Andor, be nice. See you guys soon!”

As soon as Lewella left the room, Cora once again felt incredibly awkward. She didn’t remember being so antisocial, she used to be quite ok with social gatherings. It looked like the time spent in jail had made her a little more guarded. Or maybe she just felt out of place, surrounded by people that all seemed to know each other pretty well, feeling like she was intruding. The only one she knew, besides Lewella who was gone now, was Cassian and she had no idea how to deal with him right now, so she kept drinking, hoping she wouldn’t become a mopey drunk.

He had climbed on the stool next to her and was resting his elbows on the bar, seeming just as interested in his drink as she was. And probably, feeling just as awkward as she felt. Nonetheless, he was cute. It was unusual seeing him in civilian clothes without all the military insignia. Even though the jacket he was wearing now had the similar Corellian cut as his military one, it make him look more relaxed somehow. Or maybe, it was just the informal setting. She was convinced he never drank unless the job required it and certainly not on base breaking the rules, but it seemed she had been wrong in most of her assumptions. She had judged him by how he behaved at work, but she never thought he may have a private life beyond that, one that she had never been part of. 

“I see you haven’t died from your concussion yet, Captain,” Cora finally broke the silence. 

His lips curled into a faint smile before he took a sip from his cup. “Disappointed?”

“A little.” She laughed. “I’ll have to admit I would have really loved to be able to say ‘I told you so’.”

“I won’t give you that satisfaction, don’t worry.”

The group in the back erupted in laughter again and Cora remembered the game that Cassian had been watching before he was appointed to be her babysitter. 

“What are they playing?” she asked, shifting a little so she could see their table over Cassian’s frame.

“Sabacc,” he said, his face opening into a smile. “Do you know the game?”

“Oh. I’ve heard about it, but I’ve never seen anyone play it.” She tried getting a better look at the table, but the people crowding around it were blocking her view. “Gambling is forbidden in the Imperial army, but I assume a lot of people played anyway.”

“Well, if you decide to come here more often, I can teach you if you want.” 

Her heart skipped a beat. It wasn’t that big of a deal, but he had never offered to meet her in their free time before. He never had lunch with her in the mess hall, never stopped to chat by the coffee machine, hell, he never stopped her in the hallway to ask her how she’d been doing. It may have not been a date, but something as simple as offering to teach her how to play a game felt like something special coming from Cassian. “Unfortunately, I don’t have much time off,” she admitted, and her voice sounded a little sadder than intended.

“That’s because you’re a workaholic. Lewella told me that she’s already invited you a few times and you kept saying no.” Could it be that he sounded a little disappointed, or was her mind playing tricks on her? “I’m surprised Melshi got you to come.”

“Don’t you dare call me a workaholic,” she said, pretending to be offended. “And he didn’t. I heard music so I was curious,” she explained. “He found me and dragged me here. Against my will. We’ve never met before.” She was pretty vehement in making sure that he knew Melshi didn’t just convince her to come. Her alcohol infused brain was starting to slip. “I wouldn’t have come if I knew what it was,” she said, without thinking.

“Why not?” he asked, looking at her curiously.

Cora looked down at her hands. “Because…” She didn’t really know what to say. “I guess I don’t really know anyone here…”

“But you do,” he said, turning around to face her. “You know Lew and you know me. You’ll get to know Melshi whether you like it or not.” Cora laughed. “You know Rodma Maddel, she’s in the intelligence division, she’s been through your questionnaire,” he said pointing at a blonde girl, and Cora cringed remembering the whole ordeal. “Speaking of which, I haven’t heard anything about that seminar yet,” he said, a grin spreading over his face.

Cora groaned. She hoped he had forgotten about that, but she wasn’t that lucky. She took another sip, before straightening her back and trying to look as professional as she could given that she was already tipsy. “Well, Captain, it seems you’re the only one on base who doesn’t know how to put on a condom.” She could hardly contain her laugh. “It wouldn’t be much of a seminar with just the two of us, don’t you think so?” She winked and Cassian shook his head, laughing, the blush on his face accentuating slightly.

“That,” he said, going back to pointing people in the room, “is Corporal Casrich. He’s a bit of a daredevil so you might have treated his injuries a few times.” The corporal was loudly talking to Sergeant Melshi, a little wobbly on his feet. Cora remembered him. She had admitted him a couple of times, but unlike Cassian, he waited patiently in the infirmary to get better.

Cora scanned the room for other familiar faces and stopped when she saw an older bearded man. “I know him. Mefran? I think…”

“Jav Mefran, yes. He helped clear out the jungle when we moved to Yavin.”

“He helped me too, with Ben when I took him out of the dungeons. He knows a lot about jungle habitats.”

“Why did you name a lichen?” he suddenly asked, taking her by surprise.

Cora shrugged. “I’m lonely, I guess.”

The same sad expression she had seen on his face before resurfaced once again. This time, however, it didn’t disappear in a fraction of a second, but persisted for a while, long enough for Cora to convince herself it wasn’t just a figment of her imagination. “You don’t have to be,” he finally said.

She shrugged again, but didn’t know what to say. She knew it was her fault she was being lonely, she should have made an effort to make more friends and interact with them more, but she had been alone for most of her life so she just got used to it. Being lonely seemed to be her default state, and it rarely bothered her. 

Melshi had returned behind the bar with a now empty bottle. Unfortunately, he opened a new one and started refilling their cups. 

“No no no! It’s enough, I really really have to go now,” she declined the drink, jumping off of the stool. 

“But you just came here,” he argued. “And I really didn’t get to know you.”

“I’ll come another time,” she assured him, but Melshi didn’t seem to buy it. “You really think Lew won’t drag me here the next time she’s on base?”

“Ok, then,” he finally gave up. “You’re lucky that you’re a doctor and I don’t want to feel responsible for the people you’ll kill tomorrow. Finish your drink and you’re free to go.”

“I’m not drinking that. You said one drink and that’s the third.” She frowned, crossing her arms over her chest, trying to seem tough, even though it was pretty obvious that she was already tipsy. 

“Alcohol is in short supply so we don’t waste it. You can’t leave until your cup is empty.” He was grinning and Cora wanted to strangle him. She looked over to Cassian for help but he was grinning too.

“Those are the rules,” the captain said, bringing his cup to his lips and downing it. He finished the drink without flinching, and Cora looked at him wide eyed, wondering what kind of monster he was to be able to drink that horrible liqueur with a smile on his face.

“It was empty before you refilled it,” she grumbled, pointing an accusing finger at Melshi, who had skipped the cup and was now drinking straight from the bottle. 

She didn’t manage to finish her drink as elegantly as Cassian did, but she did her best only to grimace slightly. Finally, she put the empty cup upside down on the stone bar. “I want you to know that I’m blaming you tomorrow for my hangover,” she told Melshi. “Does no one ever want to kill you, because I really want to kill you right now.”

“Some have tried, Doctor, but none has succeeded yet. I’m resilient like that,” he laughed.

“Like a cockroach,” Cassian added, getting off of his stool. “I’m gonna walk you back,” he offered Cora.

“It’s ok, I can go back on my own,” she declined. “You stay here with everyone.” She really didn’t want to be a burden to him, after all he was there to spend time with his friends, not to take care of her. And she certainly didn’t want to be alone with him. She was scared of the awkward silence that would follow.

“Are you sure?” he asked, taking a step towards her, getting dangerously close. “I know you’re good with dark and narrow spaces, but the catacombs are a lot more complex than your vents. How many times have you explored them?”

Through the fog of alcohol that was clouding her mind she realized he was right. She had only found her way here because she was guided by the music, but she had absolutely no idea how to get back. That would have been difficult even if she had been sober, but drunk it was nearly impossible. 

“You have a point,” she admitted, a little embarrassed. “I need your help getting back.”

“That’s more like it,” he said, putting a hand on the small of her back. “I’ll be back shortly,” he told Melshi who waved at them.

“Don’t forget me, Cora Enoch,” he yelled when they were almost out the door. 

“How could I?” she yelled back. “I’ll have the mother of hangovers to remind me of you.”

She welcomed the darkness. The alcohol had gone to her head faster than she had anticipated, mainly due to her own stupidity, and right now she was sure her face was red and her eyes glassy. Fortunately, she wasn’t drunk enough to lose all self-control or black out in a corner. At least until she was safely in her own bed. She really didn’t want to make a fool of herself in front of Cassian.

She turned on her flashlight seeing as Cassian didn’t seem to have any light. Melshi didn’t use the one he had either when she first saw him, so she had to assume that they could either see in the dark, or they knew the place so well they could easily navigate it. She wondered how many times they met there like that. Daily after work? Weekly? They seemed to know each other pretty well. 

“How long have you known these people?” Cora asked, breaking the silence. 

“Most of them I’ve known for a while. A few years even,” he said, his voice a little nostalgic. “Some I’ve only met after we moved on Yavin IV. I’ve recruited a few of them over the years.”

“How long have you known Lewella?”

“I’ve probably known her the longest. Both of us have been in the Rebellion for quite some time.”

“She never mentioned you,” she said, without thinking.

“Do you talk about me a lot?” he asked, and Cora didn’t have to see his face to know that he was grinning. 

“Actually we don’t,” she admitted, realizing that if she had asked Lewella about him she would have told her. She just lived under the impression that Lew knew him like she seemed to know everyone on base, not that they were actually friends. But how could she have brought him up without raising suspicion?

“But you do think about me,” he said, and Cora was sure she turned a few shades brighter.

“Occasionally,” she admitted, the alcohol making her a little more honest than she would have liked. “When you annoy me,” she added.

“Only when I annoy you?” he asked, and Cora was sure he was referring to the kiss.

“You do annoy me a lot.” She didn’t have the courage to bring it up. 

He laughed and it echoed in the dark corridor. She was feeling warm and safe walking alongside him in the narrow space. He was close enough that if she reached out she could grab his hand and pull him even closer. Was she brave enough to make the first move? The alcohol was giving her the perfect excuse, but could she do it?

Before she could make up her mind she started seeing light at the end of the corridor and she knew they were close. She had missed her chance, because she knew she would never be that brave out in the light. 

“If you go straight ahead,” he said while they were still surrounded by shadows, “and then left, you’ll reach the elevators. I’ll turn around now.”

Cora nodded and turned off the flashlight, shoving it in her pocket. There was enough light that she could distinguish shapes. She turned around to look at Cassian. He was just standing there looking at her, waiting, as if giving her the chance to stop him from leaving. And she took it, thinking that life’s short and that she’ll hate herself the next day no matter what decision she made.

She grabbed him by the lapels of his jacket and pulled him closer. That was all he needed. They easily found each other's lips in the dark, crashing into a hurried, yet passionate kiss. Cora snaked her arms around his neck, tangling her fingers in his hair, messing it up like she wanted to do so many times before. His hands had found their way underneath her uniform and his fingers were stroking the bare skin on the small of her back, sending shivers down her spine.

He pushed her onto the wall, deepening the kiss. The taste of jet juice didn’t seem so nauseating when it was on his lips, she thought as she let her hands slide down on his chest, unbuttoning his shirt. His lips left hers only to move to kissing down her neck, gently nibbling at the skin from time to time, his stubble pleasantly tickling. His hands had gone up, caressing the skin over her ribs, but never quite touching her breasts, teasing her. 

She took his face in her hands, bringing him back up to meet her lips, needing to feel him and taste him. He took his hands from under her tunic and pulled her into an embrace, pressing her to his chest as closely as he could without suffocating her. She grabbed onto his shoulders for support, her knees weak. 

She had no idea how much time they spent like that, but time was a distant notion to her. When he finally broke off the kiss, she was feeling lightheaded and flustered.

“I have to go now,” he said, his voice raspy, just as out of breath as she was. “Before they start asking questions.” 

“You could stay,” she suggested, her voice low and shaky, but without any doubt in her mind. 

He smiled and looked away, then released her from his embrace. Without his arms holding her, Cora struggled to maintain her balance so she took a step back and leaned on the stone wall. 

“You have work early in the morning,” he said, not looking at her, more concentrated on buttoning his shirt right. “You need sleep.”

“I don’t care,” she said, not giving up just yet. He laughed, but Cora could see him backing away, and not only physically. 

“You’ll regret it tomorrow,” he said, but it was too dark for Cora to make out the look he threw her. She wondered what he referred to when he said she’d regret it: losing a night’s sleep or sleeping with him? “Go get some rest,” he said, before shoving his hands in his pockets and disappearing in the dark.

After a few minutes of silent pondering, Cora realized how much she hated him for leaving her alone in the corridor, horny and drunk, but also how much she wanted him. She slid down the wall and pressed her hands to her face. 

“Fuck you, Cassian,” she whispered. 

 

*

 

One thing she had been right about: she hated herself in the morning. She also hated Cassian and Melshi, but above it all, she hated herself. 

When she got to her room she was sure she wouldn’t be able to fall asleep thanks to the adrenaline running through her veins, but after taking a quick shower, she fell asleep the moment her head touched the pillow. She woke up with a splitting headache and a very disgruntled stomach. Luckily, she arrived to her shift in time, cursing the gods who had bestowed humanity with the gift of alcohol. 

She had spent the whole morning nursing her hangover and yelling at the droids that were making too much noise for her liking. Fortunately for everyone, the med bay hadn’t been very busy that day. She hated herself for not being able to refuse drinking on a work night. The wretched taste of jet juice lingered on her tongue and she was sure she wouldn’t be able to get rid of it unless she gargled disinfectant. Maybe not even so. 

But besides the taste of jet juice, the feeling of Cassian’s lips on hers lingered too. When she woke up in the morning she wasn’t sure if it was a dream fueled by alcohol or if it was real. It took her a while to convince herself that it had been in fact real. She should have never kissed anyone while drunk, she told herself. But she knew she wouldn’t have had the courage to do it if she were completely sober. And she wondered if it wasn’t the same for him. She didn’t regret it, though. 

Most of the day she just sat at her desk, her hands tightly pressed onto her eyes, hoping that she’d survive her hangover for a few more hours. 

“Hello Doc,” she heard a familiar voice greet her and she groaned internally. “Remember me?”

“How could I have forgotten you, Sergeant?” she said, turning around to look at a smiling Melshi. “What can I help you with?”

He lifted his left hand and Cora could see a small drill poking out of it. She sighed. “Prep OR01,” she told a med droid. “Follow me, Sergeant.” 

The med droid sat him on the table while Cora put on a surgical gown and a pair of gloves. Taking the drill out of his hand wasn’t a complicated thing, it could have been done in the ER downstairs, but she assumed his main objective was to see her and laugh at her hangover.

“How’s your first real hangover, Doctor?” he asked, proving her right. 

“What makes you think that this is ‘my first real hangover’?”

“Because you don’t really experience hangovers to their fullest until you try jet juice.”

“I see,” she smiled. “Well, as you can see, I’ve survived.”

The scanner showed that he had narrowly missed hitting a bone with the drill and there was no nerve damage either. He has been lucky. 

“You, on the other hand, or on this hand, nearly drilled into a bone.”

“It can happen to the best of us, isn’t that right, Doc?”

“Especially to those who drink on weeknights,” she scolded him. 

“Every night is a weeknight for some of us. You just have to make some time for yourself too. We can’t be working all the time or we’d go mad.” He grinned and Cora feared the worst. “Speaking of which, you and Cassian, eh?”

Cora’s eyes widened. How could he know? There was no way Cassian would have told him, right? She assumed he wasn’t one to kiss and tell, but she may have been wrong. Or maybe he didn’t know, and was making assumptions himself. She was going to deny everything anyway. 

“There has to be a verb in there somewhere for it to be a sentence, Sergeant,” she said, while slowly extracting the metal object from his flesh.

“You know what I mean,” he grinned.

“No, I don’t,” she played stupid.

“Do you really want me to say it out loud?” he asked, pointing towards the med droid, who was waiting by the door in case he was needed. Cora wondered if med droids gossiped. She sighed and dismissed it.

“There’s nothing between me and Cassian,” she said, when they were completely alone.

“That’s bullshit.”

“It’s not!”

“Are you trying to tell me that he just walked you to your room, told you good night and left?”

“Pretty much. Minus the good night part, he’s not that polite,” she said, smiling, hoping he’d drop the subject.

“I don’t believe you.”

“I don’t really care if you believe me or not. It’s the truth.”

“He’s not that stupid, you know,” he said, looking at her like he knew something she didn’t. “He’s noticed the way you look at him.”

“What do you mean?” Her heart sank. 

He grinned. “You know, out of the corner of your eye, like you’re not really looking, but you are. And he’s noticed.” Cora threw him a disbelieving look. “He has, and he’s doing the same thing. So don’t try to convince me there’s nothing between the two of you.”

“There’s nothing between me and Cassian,” she said in her best poker face. 

With the drill extracted, wound cleaned and patched up, he was free to go, and Cora wished to get rid of him as fast as she could. Her heart was beating too fast and she felt she was going to be nauseous again. She promised herself she'd never drink again.

“Thanks for the hand,” he said, before leaving the med bay. “And maybe next time he walks you back to your room you won’t let him leave until he says goodnight. Or good morning, depending…”

“Oh, fuck off before I change my mind and put that drill back!”


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Sorry for the long wait, it was a busy period for me and I found very little time and inspiration to write. I hope you all enjoy this chapter and thank you so much for your love <3
> 
> Special thanks to Hexell who made it readable again.
> 
> Warning: brief mentions of prostitution.

She didn’t get to spend time alone with Cassian after that, but she was aware that would happen. He seemed to employ the same tactic of ignoring it until it went away, just like she did, so she was sure that even if they were alone they’d just smile politely and make small talk, completely ignoring that one time when they both got drunk and made out in the catacombs. And the other time when they were sober and kissed in an empty corridor because they were angry at each other. 

The attraction was there, there was no denying it. If at first she thought he may have kissed her just to distract her, the second time there was no ulterior motive. Just the alcohol and the desire to smush their faces together. Of course, it was primal and impulsive, but isn’t that what attraction is in the end? Two (or more) people giving in to their most basic instincts, not thinking about the future. But the problem was that Cora didn’t really know what she wanted. Part of her wanted wild sex without consequences, but another part of her was confused by the desire of being in a committed relationship. 

She hoped that one day she’d fall in love with someone, real love, not just a passing crush, but until then she didn’t really want to commit to anyone. What was the point? A relationship that wasn’t based on a foundation of mutual understanding and respect, on years of getting to know each other, was doomed to fail anyway. As she grew up - this was in part thanks to her uptight education, but most of it came from becoming rather cynical - she left behind the childish idea of suddenly and mindlessly falling in love. Life wasn’t a romance novel where the first person you fall in love with will be the one you end up spending your life with, if you were even lucky enough to meet someone like that. Real life was cynical.

It wasn’t that long ago that she refused to go out with someone she didn’t have any feelings for because it didn’t feel right. The crush she had on Cassian seemed to evolve with every meeting, but she had the sinking feeling that this was only going to lead to heartbreak. 

Part of what made Cassian so intriguing was the aura of mystery that surrounded him. While everyone else she’d made friends with had eventually opened up to her and told her stories about their homes, about their past, their likes, their dislikes, Cassian, even though he was one of the first people she had met, was hesitant to share any of that. He still kept his distance. The very few things she knew about him she only found out in broken pieces that he reluctantly shared.

But despite knowing so little about him, she still felt like she knew him. Over the time she had gotten little hints about the person behind the mask. She may not know what his favourite food was or what he liked to do in his free time, but she knew he had a dry sense of humour and quick wit. He was very professional and respected by everyone and he seemed to care a lot about his comrades. He seemed to care about her too, but she felt there was always this wall between them, a wall that only cracked a little when he was angry, drunk or she was about to die. 

Also, she knew he was a great kisser. Like a really, really good kisser. 

“Cora, are you ok?” Aidan asked, making her jump and wonder if she’d blushed furiously or if she just looked weird, spacing out completely.

“Yeah, sorry, got a little lost in my own thoughts,” she apologized, smiling politely and trying to hide her embarrassment. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” he offered, but Cora shook her head. It really wasn’t something she wanted to share with anyone, especially with Aidan of all people. “Well, someone’s looking for you,” he said, pointing towards the sliding glass doors.

In the hallway there was a guard waiting who informed her that there was a meeting taking place in the war room and she was expected to attend. It was unusual, because Cora was never asked to take part in any sort of meetings, so she was a little cautious. For some reason, whenever she had to meet the higher-ups she always expected the worst. Maybe that had something to do with the fact that they hadn’t always been the nicest people with her. 

Luckily, it was an administrative meeting regarding the new medical equipment they had “purchased”. Cora assumed they had gotten it by raiding an Imperial medical facility or some cargo shuttles, since they all bore the imperial crest on them, but she didn’t say anything. She was thankful for the newer models of healing field generators, additional bacta tanks and autodocs, she didn’t really care how they got their hands on them. 

Unfortunately, she had no idea what Cassian and General Draven were doing at such a meeting. She reckoned they both knew just as much about bacta tanks as she knew about long range missiles, so their presence was a little unsettling. And seeing Cassian made her heart beat a little faster and that was never a good sign. She really didn’t want to blush furiously anywhere near General Frown.

“Doctor Enoch,” one of the councilmen addressed her, after a rather long and boring introduction about the need of more efficiency in the med bays through which Cora had made the superhuman effort not to yawn. “Doctor Crane tells us you are the most familiarized with the new medical equipment.”

“Yes,” she replied, trying to look professional after almost falling asleep in her chair, “it’s not the newest generation, but it’s something we used extensively on star destroyers.”

“From the report you were asked to put together it seems we are missing some consumables and spare parts for it, and both you and the mechanics have said that there’s no way to make the older generation consumables fit,” he said in a condescending tone and Cora felt like she was back in the Empire. Politicians were the same everywhere, it seemed. 

“That’s correct.” Newer equipment, different tech that came with completely different consumables and spare parts, more headaches for them on the long run, but at least they were more efficient.

“Fortunately,” another councilman intervened, “our intelligence operatives have been able to find a trustworthy supplier of such consumables.”

Cora guessed this wasn’t some authorized supplier they had just convinced to send them the latest merchandise, so it had to be something on the black market. Hence, the word “trustworthy” didn’t really fit in that sentence, in her opinion.

“We found a merchant on Samarkand who has traded with us before,” Cassian spoke, and Cora felt a shiver run down her spine. Definitely not a good sign. “They said they have what we need and are willing to trade with us again. We’ve scheduled a meeting with them.” 

“Unfortunately,” General Draven finally opened his mouth and the shiver turned into something a lot more unpleasant, “Doctor Crane seems to think you’re the only one that can supervise this trade and that you have to accompany the crew no matter what.” There was so much spite in one sentence Cora had no idea how he didn’t choke on it.

All eyes turned to look at her. Now she understood why she was asked to come to the meeting: they needed her help again. When the new equipment came in she was asked to inspect it, since she knew medical engineering and was familiar with those certain models. The mechanics, most of them, at least, weren’t specialized in medical tech, and the ones that were didn’t really know the newer generations. Those were reserved for the army and most of them were civilians. Which made Cora the most qualified person to deal with this problem, a thing that seemed to give General Draven at least a metaphorical ulcer. 

“General, we’ve already spoken about this.” Doctor Crane had a disapproving look on his face, like he didn’t like Draven’s nose poking into the med bay’s business. “We’ve talked with all our mechanics, and they all said the same thing: Cora has experience with these pieces of equipment, and actually knows what we need. She has more knowledge in medical engineering than most of us.” Cora smiled and nodded, enjoying how the general’s frown was becoming more and more pronounced, threatening to scrunch all his face in the middle. “It would be stupid of us not to send a specialist and risk getting swindled. Captain Andor’s a great negotiator, but we also need someone who knows if the pieces we’re buying are actually fully functional.”

The doctor seemed quite annoyed and Cora wondered how much they had already argued on this subject. General Draven didn’t like her at all and she understood why he was so reluctant to let her leave the base, but since she had already been on a mission before and nothing happened (nothing that was her fault, at least), she thought she would have earned some of his trust. It didn’t seem to be the case. 

“Captain?” Draven asked, directing his frown towards Cassian. “Do you need her help?”

She looked at Cassian hoping he’d say yes, but the way Draven had phrased that question was probably intended to clash with his pride and make him look inept if he said yes. Nonetheless, she still hoped. She missed going off-world, and even though the last time didn’t go so well, thinking back, it was a thrilling adventure. This time it was just a trade and loading some materials on a ship, what could happen? A change of scenery would do her good, plus she would be lying if she said she wasn’t excited to be alone (or almost alone) with Cassian once again.

“I could do it on my own,” he said and Cora felt all her hopes and dreams being crushed by his annoying accent. “But it would take longer. And since I’m not familiar with the equipment and neither are the mechanics, I think Doctor Enoch would prove to be a valuable asset, saving us time, and maybe even money.” Cora felt so happy she could kiss him. Not that she wouldn’t want to do that anyway, but right now she could kiss him in front of everyone and not give a shit.

General Draven sighed, and Cora imagined he was a balloon deflating. He probably expected Cassian to take his side in the debate. “You remember what happened last time she was on a mission off-world, don’t you, Captain?” Draven said, crossing his arms over his chest. Cora didn’t like what he was insinuating. 

“That wasn’t her fault,” Cassian defended her. “If there’s anyone to blame for that, as her supervisor, that would be me.” 

Cora never thought she’d hear him take her side in an argument, especially against his superiors, so she looked at him wide-eyed. But she was being unfair towards him, since she knew full well that he’d spoken in her favour at least once before. 

“Well then, Captain, she’d be your responsibility once again, if we decide to send her with you…” Cassian said nothing, but nodded. “Senator Mothma has already approved of this plan…” the general mumbled, scrolling on a datapad.

“Then why are we still talking about it?” Doctor Crane asked, raising his hands in exasperation. 

“Because, Doctor, in the end it’s my decision.” Draven glared at Doctor Crane, and the doctor glared back. 

“Does no one ask Doctor Enoch if she wants to do this?” Cassian asked and everyone looked at him like he suddenly grew a second head. Even Cora. Especially Cora. “After all, she has agreed to work in the med bay, not to go on missions.”

The looks on their faces said that no one had even considered that she might say no, but at least they were thinking about it now.

“Of course, of course,” said Doctor Crane, “it’s her choice in the end.”

Cora could see General Draven’s frown loosen up a bit. “Yes, Miss Enoch has only agreed to work in the med bay,” he repeated, and Cora could see his wheels turning. “An off-world mission would exceed her responsibilities. Unless it’s an emergency, of course.” He seemed rather pleased that he could use this technicality to not send her on this mission. Or any other ones, for that matter. 

“General,” Cora broke the silence, “I think it’s in the med bay’s best interest that I go on this mission. Since I’m the one who will receive the parts, it would be unfortunate if I had to tell you they’re not what we needed and the whole purchase was a waste of credits.” She could see the general’s face getting paler and only then did she realize that what she said could be interpreted like she was threatening to not accept the equipment unless she went on this mission. She didn’t intend to imply that, but on second thought, it didn’t seem like such a bad idea. She smiled.

“Very well, Doctor,” the general said, and she could see his jaw tensing. Uh-oh. “If you insist. But if anything goes wrong, I’ll hold you responsible for it.” He looked really menacing and Cora felt that if anything would happen, no matter how small, he’d blame it on her. He took a data pad off the desk and handed it to Cassian. “The trade is two days from now, don’t disappoint us,” he said in a stern voice and Cassian nodded. 

Cora felt a knot forming in her throat. She dug herself into a grave, and now she had to lay in it and pretend it was comfortable. She looked over at Cassian, but he was busy scrolling on the datapad to notice her. 

The meeting didn’t take much longer and they were dismissed. Cassian caught up with her on the hallway.

“We’ll be leaving early in the morning,” he said, walking besides her. “I’ll have someone send you some civilian clothes tomorrow, and I’ll meet up with you and the crew in one of the briefing rooms in the afternoon to run over the plan once more. You still have the report you made with the list of the things we need, right?”

“Yeah,” she said. “But Samarkand, really?”

“What?” He looked at her confused.

“It’s a shithole,” she enlightened him. 

“Yes, and also a gold mine, if you know where to look.” 

“In the shit?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

He laughed and ran a hand over his beard, leaving Cora a little distracted by the movement of his fingers. “Where you least expect it.” 

“I guess you have more experience than me with these sorts of places,” she sighed. “I’ll have to trust you this time.”

“That’s a risky thing to do, Doctor.” He seemed in a better mood than she had ever seen him, except maybe that night in the catacombs. But his disposition changed in the blink of an eye when he seemed to remember something. “You don’t have to come with us,” he said, his face suddenly serious. “If after the last mission you feel like...”

“I think it’s a little late to get cold feet,” she cut him off, not wanting to have a serious conversation about her mental state after that mission. “I’m not sure General Draven will let me back out of it right now.”

“You could always get violently ill tonight,” he suggested.

“Are you offering to shoot me in the leg?” she joked.

“If necessary.” 

Cora burst out laughing, making some heads turn to look at her. “Thank you, Captain, but I’m good,” she said, gaining back some semblance of composure. “Besides, I’d really like to see for myself that shithole I’ve heard so much about. You don’t think we’re gonna be chased by pirates again this time, do you? I really don’t want K2 analyzing my flying skill again.”

“I hope not,” he said, stopping in front of the med bay. “But Samarkand is full of people who don’t like the Rebellion very much. If we blend in, there won’t be any trouble, but I can’t promise anything.” Cora noticed there was a hint of worry clouding his features. “I don’t intend to stay there very long. Get what we need and head home as fast as we can.”

“Then that’s what we’ll do,” she tried reassuring him, even though she would have liked to have some time to just explore the place. Melshi had been right, she was working too much and had neglected herself in the past few months, and she really felt like she needed some time off to disconnect. 

He seemed to want so say something else, but changed his mind. “I’ll see you tomorrow then, Doctor. Try to get some rest.” 

Cora nodded and said goodbye and before she knew it, he was gone. She was still amazed by his ability to just disappear in a crowd. 

“You seem to be getting along pretty well,” Aidan said raising en eyebrow, as she entered the med bay.

“Occasionally,” she explained.

“I see you haven’t broken his legs and submerged him in bacta yet.”

“Next time, Aidan,” she smiled. “The next time he crosses me that’s what will happen.”

 

*

 

The tiny planet of Samarkand was ugly, to say the least. As one of the so called “Smuggler’s moons” it was almost entirely covered by one big muddled city that seemed to have grown on the planet’s surface like a ravenous parasite. It was pretty well known in the Empire as one of those places where you should never go to, but where it was possible to find anything you were looking for. From the most illegal things to the most deprived, you could find them all, if you had the coin. 

Cora watched the planet over Cassian’s chair as they descended slowly. He had given up trying to convince her to take a seat while they were docking and resigned himself to only glare at her whenever the ship made a sudden movement. K2 hadn’t even tried. 

She was really excited about this mission. She had been issued a bunch of civilian clothes that she had no intention of ever giving back, even if that meant she had to fight the whole rebel army barehanded. They had given her a pair of tight dark grey trousers that made her ass look great and a black leather jacket with way too many straps and buckles to be practical, but that looked really badass. When she checked herself in the mirror before Cassian came to pick her up she thought she looked like she always imagined the smugglers in stories looked like. Not that she had many chances to meet one in real life.

Cassian gave her a blaster gun after they left Yavin. She had no idea if Draven had agreed to that, she had a feeling he didn’t, but Cassian said that if she really wanted to blend in, she needed to have some sort of weapon so she took it and strapped its holster to her belt. It was a small model, not very powerful, even though from up close it could still cause a lot of damage. That it was loaded told her that it wasn’t just for show. 

It was already dark when they docked. Cora realized she had no idea how long the days lasted as they joined the chaotic movement of people in the space port. K2 had to stay behind, because the sight of an imperial droid would attract too much attention. No matter how much some hated the Rebellion, they hated the Empire even more. The plan was for her and Cassian to negotiate the trade and then the crew of the other ship would load them in the cargo shuttle and bring them to base. For security reasons, Cora and Cassian rode in his U-wing.

“Welcome to Samarkand,” he said, as they left the spaceport and joined the crowded streets, “one of the most wretched places in the Galaxy.”

“Sounds like a dream vacation spot,” she laughed, staying as close to Cassian as possible, avoiding to stare anyone in the face for fear they’d take it as an affront. There were many scary people walking those streets.

“Could be worse, I guess,” he said, a smile lighting up his face for just a second.

He blended in pretty well with the crowd. He was dressed in a black jacket and dark trousers, and this, combined with the neon lights shining on him from the signs above gave him this aura of danger. Cora had easily gotten used to the Cassian that smiled and argued with her over trivial things that she had forgotten how intimidating he could look sometimes. It was a stark contrast between how overwhelmed he looked when he was in her infirmary and how in his element he was in the streets of this smugglers den. 

On the other hand she felt really out of place. She may have had the clothes, but she lacked the confidence to look like she belonged, however she did her best to put up a front. She had covered her hair with a scarf hoping that she’d be less noticeable that way. She didn’t think that she’d meet anyone who knew her in Samarkand, but she assumed at least a few of them knew that Admiral Enoch had a daughter, and some may even know what she looked like, so she took as many precautions as she could, as she almost clinged to Cassian’s frame for reassurance. 

They met the trader on the outskirts of the spaceport, in a warehouse. She couldn’t tell if it was still in use or deserted, because honestly, everything looked pretty run down in Samarkand and this was no exception.

Cassian did almost all the talking. After all, she wasn’t a negotiator. She just stood behind and watched him make the deal, hoping that no one could see just how much she wanted that man. 

The actual work she had to do took a little over an hour and involved a lot less talking. Basically, this is good, this isn’t, this is not the model we need, that may work with a little tweaking. The traders had insisted that all the merchandise was exactly what they needed and tried to make them buy it in bulk, but Cassian refused to buy anything unless Cora checked it first. Now they were throwing rather displeased glares in Cora’s direction, but he assured her it was fine. If an altercation started she just hoped she could hide fast enough under a crate because she was sure she’d be useless with the blaster.

Fortunately, nothing happened. At the end, Cassian paid them a lot less than what they had asked for, but still a lot more than what the pieces were worth. She figured it was still a good deal since there was no way they could just call the Empire and ask them to deliver what they needed to their doorstep, at a discount price. 

They loaded the crates in the cargo shuttle as the merchants left, mumbling about the shitty deal they had just made. 

“They’re always like that,” Cassian explained when they were further away and couldn’t hear them anymore. “Pretending to be disappointed in the deal they’d made. But they know full well they didn’t get one credit less than what it was worth.”

Cora smiled. “You’re really good at this.”

“Why do you think they’re keeping me around?” he asked, a cheeky grin on his face.

“For your looks, I assumed.”

He smiled and looked away for half a second before going into the cargo shuttle to check on the crew. 

“They’re ready to go,” he said coming back down, as the loading door closed slowly. “They’ll head out before us. I still have some things to buy from the market, I can bring you back to the ship and you can wait until I come back. It won’t take long.”

“Can’t I come with you?” she asked, just to be polite, because she intended to go with him no matter what he answered. 

He shrugged. “I guess you could come. But there’s not much to see.”

“Still better than having to wait for you while K silently judges my every move. That includes breathing.” 

They watched as the cargo shuttle took off before they left the spaceport again and joined the busy streets. Samarkand looked like it grew on its own, not that it was built with any plan in mind. The buildings seemed to emerge one from another, crooked and shabby, the narrow streets made sudden turns or went in circles. It made no sense for Cora who was used to the simple efficiency of imperial design. Nonetheless, it was fascinating. Almost every building had a sort of shop on the base level and Cora couldn’t take her eyes off the stalls filled with all sorts of unfamiliar trinkets. 

Cassian patiently guided her through the crowd, a protective arm occasionally appearing on her back, pulling her away from whatever distracted her for too long. Cora’s heart jumped whenever he did it and every time she hoped that he’d let it rest on her back at least a moment longer. He didn’t. She had been right, they were both denying anything had ever happened between them. She wanted to be a little braver and bring up the subject, but they were on a mission and it wasn’t the right place to discuss feelings. And what if she found out he regretted it? No, she wasn’t going to bring it up. Not today. 

He seemed to know the layout of the city pretty well and Cora wondered how many times he’d been there. Occasionally, he stopped in front of a small shop and bought something leaving Cora to gawk at the merchandise. A few times she saw medical equipment on the stalls and started making lists in her head of what she may need, but then remembered she had no money. The credits she had in her bag when she left the star destroyer had been confiscated and the Rebellion seemed to have no intention of giving her money back; the work she was doing in the med bay was unpaid. Basically, she was broke. 

One shop caught her eye while Cassian negotiated some spare parts for his blaster. The booth was adorned with dark red curtains, embellished with intricate golden writing, a big sun symbol in the middle. Even though it was old and faded, it was still beautiful. On the table she could see two miniature scale sized models of enforcer droids engaged in a fight. 

Cora tapped Cassian’s arm to let him know she wanted to see that up close, but he was arguing with the merchant and didn’t notice. She took a few steps towards the fighting droids to take a better look. It wasn’t that far away and Cassian could easily see her if she just turned around, so she kept advancing. 

The droids seemed to be fighting to the death wielding two miniature spears. Cora stopped at a safe distance but close enough to admire the craftsmanship. They were fully functional miniature versions of their real size counterparts, with realistic detailing and balanced movement. The blows they landed seemed to be rather strong for such small droids, so she assumed they weren’t just novelty toys. Whoever built them had to be really skilled. 

“What are you doing here?” Cassian suddenly showed up behind her and grabbed her by the shoulders, making her jump. “Don’t stray away from me or you’ll get lost,” he scolded.

“I was just watching,” she said, pointing at the tiny droids.

“We’ve got no time for that, let’s go.” There was a note of urgency in his voice, and Cora wondered what happened. Nothing too bad, she hoped, because she really didn’t want to go back to base yet, but she knew she couldn’t be too selfish. They were on a mission after all.

“Let the girl look, Andor,” she heard a resonant voice coming from inside the shop. “You and I have something to discus anyway.”

An older lady showed up in the doorway, motioning for them to follow her inside. She was tall and dressed in all black, her hair covered with a veil secured with an intricate silver hairpiece. She looked very imposing, towering over both of them, her stony face looking like it hadn’t smiled in at least three millennia. 

Cora glanced over at Cassian, silently asking what to do, but he looked really tense. His hands hadn’t left her shoulders and were holding her tightly, his fingers digging into her leather jacket.

“I’m sorry, Bennu,” he said with an apologetic smile that Cora knew was fake. “But we really are in a hurry. Another time, maybe.”

“Oh, nonsense!” She waved a hand, dismissing his words. “You have ten minutes for an old friend, right, Andor?” Her voice modulation was intended to sound sweet, but to Cora it felt more like a threat. The hair on the back of her neck started to rise as the miniature droids stopped fighting and hopped off the table, poking at their legs and urging them to follow the woman. Cora had the feeling she had gotten Cassian into trouble with her curiosity and was now regretting it. “I’ve fixed your locket,” the woman said, before disappearing inside.

Cassian sighed and guided Cora around the table and through the door. The room that opened up before them was small and cramped, its walls covered in shelves full of mechanical parts, some of them moving and clicking. It looked a bit like the insides of a metal monster, and Cora felt a bit overwhelmed, although intrigued. 

The woman sat at the only table in the room and opened a drawer taking out a necklace hanging from a thread. It looked like a grape sized oval jewel, but Cora couldn’t get a good look at it in the dim light. 

“Is there anything left on it?” Cassian asked, showing no intention to take it from her. Cora stood on the side silently, not wanting to interfere, still a little intimidated by the lady. 

“Unfortunately, no,” she sighed. “Like I’ve told you last time, I may be the best at what I do, but I can’t make miracles happen.” 

“Then it’s of no value to me anymore,” he said, sounding resigned. “You can sell it.”

“I will sell it. To you,” she said, swinging the necklace. The jewel caught a stray ray of light and glistened.

“I don’t want it,” he said fidgeting, like the whole idea of getting it back was making him uncomfortable. 

“Well you can give it to your girlfriend, it would make a cute little present,” she suggested, pointing a long and slender finger towards Cora. 

Cassian turned to look at Cora like he had forgotten who he was there with. She felt her heart start drumming furiously in her chest so she focused on a moving piece of equipment from the nearest shelf, trying to hide her embarrassment.

“She’s not my girlfriend,” he said, his voice wavering a little. “She’s a doctor from back at the base.”

It stung. What he said was true, and if she were in his place she would have said the same thing, but it still hurt hearing him say it out loud. She had no idea what she was expecting, but this was certainly not it. 

“I don’t care,” the woman continued. “Now, about the necklace, do I have to remind you that you’ve pawned a broken locket that I can maybe get 100 credits for if I can pass it off for a real jewel, for 1500 credits? And that doesn’t include late fees and the costs of repairs, but I like you so I’ll let it slide.” 

“I don’t have the money,” he shrugged, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“Of course you do,” she said, but as he didn’t reply, she sighed. “See, Andor, this is why you can’t get a girl. Because you’re stingy.”

His eyes shot up, a little shocked. “What makes you think I don’t already have someone?” He laughed, looking uneasy. Cora turned around to look at him. Did he really have someone or was he just bluffing?

“The constant aura of desperation that follows you around, my boy.”

Cora snorted audibly before clasping her hands over her mouth and looking away. She couldn’t see him staring, but she could feel his eyes burning a hole in the back of her head. It took her a few minutes to stop silently laughing and bring her breathing to a normal rhythm. 

“This is all I have on me,” he said eventually and Cora turned her head to see him place around 1000 credits in chips on the table. She didn’t think he’d have that many credits in cash, but then she figured he probably took it from the credits the Alliance had given them for the trade. “I’ll pay the rest back next time, I promise.”

The woman studied the pile on the table with a scrutinizing gaze before she took them and threw them in a box. “Alright,” she said. “You’re not my best customer, but I don’t want to embarrass you in front of your… doctor.” 

Cora tried hard not to smile, and watched as the woman swapped the thread for a chain and placed the locket into Cassian’s hand. He looked at it, frowning, but then he made up his mind and shoved it in his pocket, before she started ushering them out.

“You said you’re in a hurry, now get going. There is no place in my shop for people who won’t buy anything,” she said, urging them to leave. 

They stumbled back into the street, the noise surrounding them once again. The two miniature droids were back on the table, continuing their fight. Cora looked at them for a second, fascinated again by the accuracy of their movement, before remembering that they were in a hurry and she was once again stalling. 

Cassian was standing behind her, a lot more relaxed than he was before. “You can stay and watch if you like,” he said. 

She shook her head. “Weren’t we in a hurry?” 

“No,” he said, shoving his hands in his pockets. “I was in a hurry to get lost before she notices me and asks for her money back. I forgot that she can smell the people that owe her money from kilometers away.”

“I’m sorry,” she apologized, turning away from the shop and following Cassian through the crowd.

“What for?”

“I should have stayed close to you. You wouldn’t have had to pay her if it weren’t for me.”

“I would have paid her sooner or later anyway. She’s an important friend. To me personally and to… home,” he said, avoiding the word Rebellion in case someone was listening. “Apart from being one of the best mechanics I know, she also knows everything that goes on in the underground world. If you ever find yourself in trouble in Samarkand, look for Bennu and she’ll help you.” He looked at her and smiled. “I just find it funny how you found the only shop on Samarkand I owed money to.”

“My life’s sole purpose is to sabotage you,” she laughed. 

He took one hand out of his pocket and offered her the locket. “You can have it, if you want,” he said, looking a little distant.

Cora took it from his hand because she wanted to take a good look at the small jewel that costed him almost 1500 credits. “What is it?” she asked, turning it between her fingers. It was a small, milky white stone with faint blue and red irizations. A golden wire was intricately woven on its surface.

“It’s a memory locket,” he explained. “It’s basically a tiny holo-projector that can save images or videos and play them back whenever you like.”

“Oh, I’ve seen those. But none of them were this fancy,” she said, staring at it, trying to make out where it had its buttons.

“My father gave it to me when I was little,” he said, and Cora looked at the small trinket in a completely different light. “I have no idea where he got it from.”

“Then I can’t take it,” she said, handing it back to him, but he shook his head. “It’s a memory from your father.”

“It had some holograms of my family recorded on it. Of my mother,” his voice hesitated. “But I broke it and the information couldn't be recovered. Without those, it’s worthless.” 

While his face remained serene, Cora felt the sadness that surrounded him when he talked. She knew what it was like to lose your family at an early age and what it felt to cling to every little memento that you had from them, hoping that in a way you could keep them close to you. Now she understood why it made him feel so uncomfortable. The locket in itself meant a lot less to him than the pictures stored on it, so now it was just a reminder of what he’d lost. 

“Maybe,” he continued, “you will find something worthwhile to record on it.” He wasn’t looking at her, staring in the distance. 

“Thank you,” she finally said. “I’ll take care of it for you. If you ever want it back, you know where to find it.”

“Here, let me show you how it works,” he offered, taking the the locket from her hands, his fingers brushing slightly over her skin. He gently pushed her to the side so that they weren’t in the middle of the road anymore and spun the jewel until he found out what he was looking for. “There’s a tiny ridge in this side,” he showed her and Cora squinted but couldn’t see anything. “It’s easier to feel it than to see it,” he said, and took her hand, guiding her fingers over its surface. It took a while for Cora to feel the tiny bump, being a lot more focused on how his hands felt on hers. Once she pressed it, the locket opened with a click. “That’s the holo-projector and that’s the scanner,” he explained. “Push that button,” he showed her one of the tiny jewels encrusted on one of the halves, “and it will capture a video. The other one will capture a still,” he said and his finger accidentally pressed the button, prompting the scanner to go off. 

The device made a faint whirring noise as it processed the information. Modern holo-projectors would display the hologram instantly, but no matter how fancy, this was an older model. Slowly, it started rendering the image. The colours were a bit off, and there were a lot of scan lines, but Cassian’s face in the hologram was pretty clear: open mouthed, looking dumbly at the trinket, completely caught off-guard. A bit to the right there was Cora’s head, partially obstructed by his shoulder, looking just as stupid as he did.

“Kriff!” he cursed, shaking his head, as Cora was already shaking from laughter. “Ok, to delete shit like this you push…” but Cora snatched the locket from his hands before he could delete it and clasped it shut. The hologram disappeared. 

“I am keeping it,” she announced, putting the chain around her neck. 

“No! Come on, let me delete it first,” he pleaded. “It’s awful,” he smiled, embarrassed.

“It’s gold. Pure. Fucking. Gold,” she said, starting to walk again in a random direction.

“No, fuck it!” He cursed again, following her in the crowd. “Give it back, Cora.”

“No!” She started walking faster, keeping Cassian one step behind. “I intend to sell this hologram for five credits,” she informed him. “I will be rich in no time.”

“Cora,” he groaned and extended an arm over her shoulder, trying to get to the locket, but Cora held it firmly in her fist and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t pry it from her hands. So he put both his arms around her shoulders and pulled her close, stopping her from advancing. She could feel his chest pressed to her back, his lips so close to her cheek that she could feel his breath on her skin. “Give it to me,” he growled in her ear, demandingly, and her heart started beating a lot faster. Was it wrong that she felt incredibly aroused by this? Probably. She didn’t care.

“No,” she breathed, and he pulled her even closer. “I’m going to run back to Bennu,” she threatened, turning her head towards him, feeling his stubble scratch her cheek, “and I will tell her you gave me the necklace and now you’re trying to forcefully get it back.”

“And why do you think she’ll help you?” he asked, his lips ghosting over her skin, making Cora’s breath hitch and her knees almost give in under her. 

“Because she’ll know that this is why you can’t get a girl, Andor,” she said, imitating the woman’s voice. “Because you’re bossy.”

He chuckled and let her go, much to Cora’s disappointment. “Fine!” he exclaimed, starting to walk again. “Ruin my reputation, will you?”

Cora followed him, after taking a few moments to clear her head. Damn was she weak. “I won’t do it if you promise you’ll listen to my medical advice from now on,” she offered.

“Are you trying to blackmail me?” he asked, looking at her amused. 

“Of course I am.”

“The official policy is that we’re not negotiating with terrorists.”

“Well, other terrorists aren’t able to change your official picture in the medical file with this one…” she said, waving the locket in front of him.

He looked at her a little bewildered, but then he smiled again. “With you looking goofy in the corner?”

He had a point. “I have no reputation to uphold, Captain” she shrugged, shoving the necklace under her top, the cold material against her skin making her shiver. She looked over at Cassian who seemed to have resigned himself to this awful fate.

“Cora, watch ou…” but his warning came a bit too late, as she collided with a furry giant. The growl that came after made her look up, only to be greeted by a Wookiee’s face looking down on her.

“Fuck,” she whispered, not being able to stop staring, hoping she won’t be maimed, but Cassian intervened.

“Sorry,” he said, guiding Cora away from the Wookiee. “We’re sorry, no harm done, it was just an accident,” he apologized again, as the giant’s gaze followed them.

“Chewie, come on! Hurry up,” they heard someone call, and the Wookie finally turned around and left. Cora could finally breathe. 

“Was I close to dying?” she asked, once her voice came back.

“Not really, but they’re unpredictable,” he said, worry written all over his face. “Let’s go back to the ship,” he concluded.

Cora’s face fell. She really didn’t want to go back to base, she was actually having fun. “Can’t we stay a little longer?” she asked, but she had no hope. If he said they had to go back she wouldn’t argue. She had gotten more than she had hoped for anyway.

“You don’t want to go back?” he asked and Cora shook her head. He seemed to think about it for a while. “I guess we could get something to eat and then head back,” he said. “But we can’t dawdle any longer than that, or K2 will kill us.”

“Yeah, don’t want that,” she said, but she was already smiling. They could delay going home for at least some time. “Is there anything edible on this planet anyway?” 

He smiled. “If you know the right places. Most of it is horrible.”

“Did the cooks on base get their training on Samarkand?” Thinking about food had made her stomach growl and she remembered she hadn’t eaten in a while.

“What?” he quirked an eyebrow. “You don’t like the food on base?” She shook her head. “It’s not that bad…”

“It’s not good either. It’s bland.” 

“Then my job of finding a place to eat has become ten times harder.”

Cora followed him through the narrow streets towards where he said there was a place where you could eat a decent meal. She still couldn’t believe that she had convinced him to just stay behind a little longer. She had no idea what happened to ‘get what we need than go home as fast as possible’, but she wasn’t complaining. She liked spending time with him outside the base, since on base they didn’t really spend any time together. This was special and she wanted to make the most of it. 

After walking around for a while Cassian proudly announced that that was it: a painted door that lead to a dark underground. While Cora was used to living in catacombs, she still felt a little uneasy descending those narrow stairs. 

The bar looked exactly like she imagined intergalactic smuggler bars to look like: flashy colours everywhere, shitty music and shady faces staring back at you. She felt her stomach clench painfully and stared at Cassian, a fake smile on her face.

“You couldn’t have found a shadier place,” she sighed, as she followed him into the bar.

“If I remember correctly, Doctor, you once said you trust me with these kinds of things.”

“I changed my mind.” 

He found a table in the back of the bar, a little cramped, but also somewhat screened from prying eyes. Cora made herself comfortable while he went to the bar to get them some food and drinks. She felt a little bad for letting him pay, but he assured her that General Draven had given them some pocket money for this mission. She highly doubted it, but didn’t argue. She intended to pay him back one day, when she’d have money. At least she’d make sure he’d have dinner with her at least once more in this lifetime. 

While a little sheltered from the rest of the room, she still had a clear view of the bar, so her eyes fixed on Cassian. He was leaning on the counter, talking to the bartender. Once again she was left to admire how beautiful he looked in the dim light, surrounded by the weirdest people in the Galaxy.

Unfortunately, it seemed she wasn’t the only one who noticed how good he looked. Two ladies who were sitting on the far side of the bar started giggling and then got up and approached him. They were dressed in skimpy, flashy clothes that showed a lot of skin, and wore a lot more makeup than Cora was used to. They sat on either side of Cassian, striking a conversation. He laughed at something one of them said, and Cora felt a little uncomfortable, but only when they started casually touching his arm did she feel like she was growing claws. She never thought she’d feel like she could rip someone to bits, but nothing surprised her anymore. When she leaned on his shoulder, Cora felt like she was growing fangs too. 

The food came before she had to murder anyone, and Cassian returned to her table with two trays of food and two bottles of something that looked like beer. The two women at the bar shot some glares in Cora’s general direction before they returned to their seats. She could feel her claws receding. 

“Here you go,” he said, placing the food and drink in front of her. “I hope you’ll like it, it’s probably not something you are used to, but it’s certainly not bland.” He smiled, but stopped a moment when he saw her still staring at the bar.

“Are those…” she wanted to ask, but she didn’t know how to finish the question.

“They are prostitutes, yeah,” he said, averting his gaze as he sat down besides her at the table. 

Cora felt a little bad for wanting to rip their guts out. After all, they were just doing their job, but her subconscious told her it didn’t really matter.

“Do you come here often?” she asked.

Cassian laughed. “Depends on your definition of ‘often’. But yes, I do come here occasionally.” Cora eyed him suspiciously. “It’s a good place to find out things, if you know who to ask.”

It wasn’t exactly what she was so curious about, but she didn’t insist. Instead she shoved a spoonful of bizarre looking stew in her mouth. “Ah! Hot, hot,” she exclaimed, trying to swallow before it scorched her mouth.

“Be careful,” he laughed, handing her a bottle of beer. She took a big gulp before she realized it was fortified beer, and a lot more alcoholic than she had expected. 

“Fortified beer, Cassian? Are you trying to get me drunk on the job?” We both know what getting drunk last time led to, she thought. 

“We are not on the clock anymore,” he said, before opening his own bottle and taking a sip.

“What do you mean?”

“The cargo shuttle has arrived home safely, I got a message earlier today. I told them we were staying behind a little longer for personal reasons.”

“And they agreed to that?” she asked bewildered.

“Of course, why wouldn’t they?”

“What if I try to run away?”

“I’m not letting you run away,” he laughed. “I’m not risking that picture getting in the hands of the enemy.”

“You’re afraid they’re going to use it to counter recruitment propaganda?” she said, finally feeling brave enough to shove another spoonful in her mouth. It certainly tasted unfamiliar, and it was definitely a lot spicier than she expected. But he had been right, it was anything but bland. 

He laughed. “Probably.” 

“They definitely won’t be very happy with my head in half of that picture,” she said, smiling sadly. He must have noticed the change of mood because he changed the subject. 

They ate and talked about trivial things and before she knew it the food was finished and they had to go back to the ship. The sun was rising but the streets were just as crowded as when they first landed, only a few hours ago. 

Cora was feeling really giddy. After a bit of getting used to, she decided that she really liked the food and now she felt full and warm inside. Cassian had bought her a shaved ice dessert from one booth in their path and she was amazed at how good it tasted.

“So,” she said, enjoying the treat. “This is what a date should be like, right?”

He smiled. “Shouldn’t you be the one to know? Isn’t that what you rich imperials do in your free time?”

“I think you forget that I’ve been military most of my life,” she smiled. “It’s not like we could just leave the ships to go on dates. If someone saved you a seat in the mess hall, you’d consider it romantic. Usually the interactions between people are a lot more… direct, if you know what I mean.” She shrugged. “How about you? Do you go on many dates?” 

“No. No time for that.” 

“Not even for missions?”

He laughed. “What do you think we do on missions?”

“Having rampant sex?” He was staring at her, with that cheeky grin on his face and Cora could feel her cheeks starting to burn. “Well, those are the rumours, at least…”

“And you believe them?”

“Every rumour has to have a grain of truth…”

A loud whirring noise made them both look at the sky. A few transport shuttles were descending over the city, their bodies throwing long shadows on the ground. 

“Those are imperial shuttles,” Cora said, feeling the colour drain from her face, but Cassian was already pulling her into a dark alley. 

_**“This is Commander Gant,”**_ she could hear an amplified voice booming over the city. _**“Samarkand is from now on under Imperial protection. Please stay calm.”**_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ba-dum-tss!
> 
> Sorry, I had to separate it into two chapters otherwise it would have been way too long and I would have finished writing it for Christmas. Special cliffhanger for Mesh, who kept asking for one. There you go, buddy!
> 
> Until next time! Love you all!


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will have to start by apologizing that this took a million years to finish, but the past couple of weeks weren't so good, for me. The month of May won't be that good either, because I won't be home on weekends and I will also be traveling for a while, so I will have even less time to write, but don't panic, I won't forget about this story and I won't give up on it. It will just take a little longer than it normally would, so I am sorry.
> 
> Thank you all so much for the comments and the Kudos and for reading. I'm surprised to be getting so much positive feedback from you guys it's amazing. Love you all!
> 
> Special thanks to Llexeh for being there for me on my shitty days and helping me get though with this.

**_“Samarkand is from now on under Imperial protection. Please stay calm.”_ **

“Why are there Imperial ships on Samarkand?” Cora asked, her back against a wall, Cassian’s body protectively shielding her.

**_“Remain non-violent and no one will be harmed.”_ **

“I don’t know,” he said in a low voice, watching the people in the streets scurry for cover. Blaster shots could be heard in the distance, making the hair raise on the back of her neck. “We have to get out of here fast.”

**_“Please take shelter until the Imperial troops have secured the perimeter.”_ **

He grabbed her arm and guided her away from the crowd, walking as fast as they could through the narrow lateral streets. This was a side of Samarkand Cora hadn’t seen until now. If the rest of it looked shabby, the back alleys were positively filthy. They had to be careful not to walk into the piles of trash that just lied on the pavement or get bitten by vermin. When Cassian decided they were far enough, they hid under a low balcony and he took out the com-link, contacting K-2SO.

_"There seem to be a lot more stormtroopers than any of us anticipated,”_ came the droid’s mechanical voice. 

“Did they take over the spaceport?” Cassian asked, hastily. “Can we still leave the planet?”

_“Probably. If you were here, we could leave right now,”_ he said in what Cora could recognize as being a condescending tone. _“They seem to concentrate their efforts on taking on the streets. But who knows for how long.”_

“That’s good. Keep the engines running, we’re coming to you.” He seemed to want to turn off the com, but then changed his mind. “If we’re not back in one hour,” he added, “leave without us.”

_“I’m not leaving without you,”_ the droid scoffed. 

“If we’re not back in one hour, take off without us,” he repeated, more convincing this time. “We can hide until they send someone after us.”

_“The odds of surviving in case of…”_

“Do as I say!” he barked and turned off the com.

“Do you think we’ll make it in time?” Cora asked, hoping her voice wasn’t shaking. She was just starting to get scared. It all changed so fast, her brain didn’t get the chance to fully process the situation until now. 

“Yeah, we will.” He tried reassuring her with a smile, but despite that, she could still see his face clouded by worry. “But we have to move fast.”

They took off in a hurried pace, taking only the most secluded alleys, avoiding to go out in the open. They kept quiet, often listening for the the sounds of battle and taking a detour if it seemed like their path would lead them directly to it. When they hit a dead end, they climbed on the roof of a small building. 

The city looked desolating. While just a few hours earlier the streets were brimming of life, now they were deserted. The shops had been closed and the colourful stalls full of merchandise were nowhere to be seen. The neon ads that lit the streets at night had been turned off, leaving the city bleak and grey. Only closed doors and barred windows everywhere. In the pale light of morning, the city looked dead. 

They kept walking on the roofs for as long as the terrain allowed them. She had no idea where they were, so she trusted Cassian to bring them to their destination. Once again she realized that she was useless in this war they were fighting. Without him, she would have probably cowered in fear and died in an alley sooner or later, unable to fend for herself. The blaster felt heavy on her hip.

“Get down!” Cassian urged, pulling her behind a parapet. He fished a pair of macrobinoculars out of his backpack and sneaked a peak over the wall. Cora waited silently until he let her look too.

In one of the main streets there was a fight taking place between stormtroopers and a group of people dressed in dark grey. From what she could see, their clothes didn’t have any military insignia on them. “Who are they?” she asked, handing the binoculars back to Cassian.

“They’re the local militia,” he explained. “The planet’s unofficially ruled by a smugglers’ guild, but they have all the actual power. There’s no military force, or any other line of defence besides this militia.”

“Do you think they’ll be able to resist the attack?”

“I doubt it,” he said, zipping up his backpack. “Let’s go.”

They climbed off the building and took another detour. Whichever direction they went in, they seemed to always be just one step away from getting into a fight. Cassian’s hand never really left the blaster, being prepared to retaliate at any sign of danger. Fortunately, and this was only thanks to him, they didn’t run into any stormtroopers. 

When the spaceport finally came into view, Cora allowed herself a sigh of relief. She could see ships taking off and leaving the planet, so she felt like they’d made it. The sound of an explosion made her realize that she had relaxed too soon. 

“K! K!” Cassian yelled over the com, as they were running towards the spaceport. There were no stormtroopers in sight, so they risked going in the open. 

_“They seemed to have changed their mind about the spaceport once someone blew up one of their transport shuttles,”_ K replied, a bit too calmly. 

“Are you alright? Are they attacking the ships?” Cassian asked.

_“The ship is fine. They’re currently engaged in a fight with a bunch of smugglers and seem to take on anything that moves, but don’t attack the ships directly,”_ he said. _“But I guess that isn’t so good for you. Do you want me to cause a distraction?”_

“No! You stay on the ship and wait for us!” he barked, before turning off the com. 

Cassian readied his blaster, so Cora did the same, even though she doubted she’d be of any use. She feared she’d only be a burden to him, but he looked at her gave her an encouraging smile. “It’s not that big of a deal,” he tried reassuring her. “We just have to stay outside of their firing range and move as silently as possible. It’s worked for us until now,” he smiled.

“Well, I hope you’ll be just as lucky from now on,” she smiled back, but only for a second, as worry took its place.

“What makes you think I’m the lucky one?”

“You don’t think it’s me?”

“Why not?” he shrugged. “We have to get going,” he said, his smile vanishing in the blink of an eye. He was Captain Andor once again. “Stay behind me, but try not to fall too far behind,” he instructed. “If I tell you to duck, you duck. If I tell you to run, you run. If I tell you to run to the ship and leave me behind, you do that, understood?” 

Cora didn’t like where this was going. She tried to swallow the lump in her throat, but her mouth was dry. He was asking her to leave him behind if anything happened and save herself, but she knew she couldn’t do that. She couldn’t just leave him if he was injured. It was her duty as a doctor to never abandon someone in need of help. 

“Understood?” He must have noticed her avoiding the question, so he insisted. Eventually she nodded. It was easier to lie when she didn’t open her mouth. “Good. Listen to me and everything will be alright.” But she was afraid. 

She followed him, the blaster in her hands, her heart somewhere in Limbo. She could hear the shots and the explosions becoming louder and louder but she kept repeating to herself that she had Cassian, so everything was going to be alright. She had fought space pirates a while back and lived to tell the tale, so she was probably gonna make it this time too. 

Once they entered the spaceport, they took the most roundabout way towards the ship. They stayed as far as possible from the fight, walking in the shadows, hiding behind the ships that still remained docked. Cora kept her eyes down. She didn’t want to see all the people who were being wounded that she couldn’t help. She just wanted to leave the planet already, and she was blaming herself for delaying the takeoff so much because she selfishly wanted to spend time with Cassian. 

Their tactic of crossing the spaceport unseen would have worked if it weren’t for the AT-ST that joined the battle and started shooting at the docked ships. If until then the smugglers seemed to have a slight advantage, with the addition of the Scout Walker, the tables seemed to have turned. 

With their cover literally blown to pieces, they had no other choice but to run in the open. Cassian was shooting while he was running, trying to stay between the blasters and Cora, dragging her along when she was falling behind. 

The U-Wing was getting closer and closer, and Cora hoped that they would make it. The ship had the engines already running and the lateral door was open, so the only thing they needed to do was to reach it and they were out of there. Or at least, it would become Cassian’s job to bring them out of there.

But a stray blaster shot hit her back. The pain was white and searing hot, burning and seeping into her bones. For a moment she lost consciousness, waking up on the stone floor, with Cassian running back to her. She wanted to scream and tell him to go, to leave without her. But she had no power to do it. Her vision was blurry. She didn’t want him to leave either, she didn’t want to die alone. 

“It’s alright, it’s ok,” he hummed in her ear, holding her by the shoulders and helping her in a sitting position. He looked at her wound and Cora could see the colour drain from his face. “It doesn’t look that deep. Can you feel your legs?” he asked, and Cora wondered how bad it actually was. The adrenaline rush had taken over and she didn’t feel that much pain. 

She tried moving her legs and was relieved to notice that she could. She smiled at Cassian. It meant that her spine wasn’t affected, or at least, it wasn’t that badly affected. She tried standing up, holding onto his shoulders for support, but her legs felt like jelly. He helped her out of the firing line, placing her down behind the smoking body of a ship. She could feel the blood slowly dripping.

“Do we still have time to get to the ship?” she asked, her voice weak, still clinging to his jacket. 

He looked around. “Yeah,” he said, but didn’t sound too convincing. “We could…” The AT-ST came into view, shooting at another row of docked ships, getting dangerously close to their U-Wing. He looked at the ship, then looked at Cora and took the com out.

“K! Take off! Leave now!” he yelled. “K!”

_“The AT-ST is getting closer, but you could still make it if you hurry,”_ K said.

“We can’t make it. Leave without us!” The AT-ST turned his attention to the ship closest to their U-Wing and fired. “Leave already!” he yelled in the com, and Cora saw the ship finally take off without them. It narrowly avoided the shots fired by the walker, but in the end it left unscattered. 

“We have to get out of here and find a safe place. Can you walk?” he asked, his hands back on her shoulders. 

“I think so,” she said, trying to get herself together.

“Ok, get ready,” he said, and fished a flash grenade out of the backpack. He set it on a timer and threw it.

He helped her up before the grenade detonated, placing one of her arms around his neck for support. He held her close, careful not to touch the wounded area, and guided her away from the fight. When the grenade exploded making a loud noise and lighting the room up, they used the ensuing chaos to slip out of the spaceport unseen.

Back on one of the deserted alleys, they found a hidden spot to rest a little. Now that the initial shock had died down, she realized that her injury wasn’t that bad. Yeah, it hurt like hell and it was still bleeding, but the quantity of blood wasn’t significant and the pain was superficial. It was probably just a graze, but it had incapacitated her at a crucial moment. Cassian had walked around for hours with broken ribs and a gushing wound and it didn’t stop him.

“Give me an emergency patch,” she told him, awkwardly twisting and shoving a hand under her clothes, trying to at least feel the wound if she couldn’t see it. “I need to stop the bleeding.”

“What are you doing?” he asked, slapping her hand away from the wound. Her hand returned smeared in blood. 

“I need to know what’s going on,” she whined, but he hoisted her up once again. 

“I’m gonna patch you up, but we can’t do that here,” he said, and Cora noticed a little tremble in his voice. “We’re too exposed. I know a place, do you think you can walk?”

“Yeah.” Now that the blasters weren’t shooting around her head, she was feeling a lot calmer. “Let’s hurry.”

They started walking again, this time a lot slower than before, with Cora’s injury holding them back, but they were still leaving the spaceport behind pretty fast. Cassian wasn’t looking as self-contained as he did just a while back. He was paler than usual, and kept looking at Cora as if expecting her to just fall down and die any moment. His hand never left her back, even though she didn’t need his help holding her up anymore. 

They reached a building that looked deserted, with broken windows and no door. It looked even more deplorable than the rest of the buildings, if that was even possible. What confused her, she noticed, was that this was the only building she’d seen until now that was completely deserted. 

“Space is very valuable here on Samarkand,” Cassian explained, as they took the stairs up to the attic. “So not that many places are abandoned.” 

“So what’s wrong with this one?” she asked, curious.

“It’s haunted.”

“You’re shitting me.”

“I’m not. People here are surprisingly superstitious,” he laughed. “Right now, that works in our favour.”

He picked the lock on the attic door in mere seconds. The room was in a much better condition than the rest of the building: it was relatively clean and dry and it had intact windows. A mattress on the floor indicated that someone was crashing there occasionally. She assumed it was Cassian. 

He closed the door behind them and dragged the mattress to the middle of the room, asking Cora to sit down. He looked outside the window for a brief moment, probably to make sure that no one had followed them, then took out the medipack. 

Taking off her clothes took a little effort and a lot of help from Cassian, but he didn’t seem to mind. Left only in her bra, the cool air hitting her skin made her shiver. Her top was bloodstained, and the jacket, her precious jacket, had a hole in it. 

She tried once again to touch the wound when she thought Cassian wasn’t paying attention, but he stopped her. She snorted, frustrated. She hated not knowing how bad it was. 

“I’ll patch you up,” he said, taking a seat behind her. He took off his jacket and rolled up his sleeves.

“How bad is it?” she asked, trying to look over her shoulder. When she couldn’t see anything, she instinctively tried to reach for the wound again, but Cassian grabbed her hand and placed it back in her lap, holding it there. She could feel his shirt brushing the skin on her shoulder, and it made her hyper aware that she was almost half naked in front of him. “Cassian,” she groaned.

“I’ve already told you, it’s not a big deal,” he said, running his thumb over her fingers. “Don’t you trust me to do this?”

“It’s not that I don’t trust you…” she mumbled. “It’s just that I hate not being able to do it myself. It makes me feel helpless.”

He let go of her hand, opened the medipack and started cleaning the wound and the blood around it. “Well, you have no choice but to let me do it this time,” he said. “You’ll have the pleasure to assess my first aid knowledge, since you once accused me of knowing nothing.”

“That’s all your fault for not knowing that emergency stitching is just that: _emergency_ stitching,” she scolded. “By the way, how did you imagine you’d heal without any medical help?”

“I’ve survived worse,” he said, and then concentrated on her injury. “You’re really lucky. I’m not a doctor, but it doesn’t look deep at all. You’ll be needing stitches, and it’s probably going to scar, but you’ll be fine.”

“I don’t understand how being shot by a blaster counts as being lucky?”

He chuckled. “A few centimeters deeper and it would have hit your spine. That’s really just a matter of the angle of the shot. If they held the blaster just one centimeter to the left…”

“You’re not helping!” she laughed. “Just shut up and disinfect it. I’m gonna get stitches when we get back.” If we ever get back, she thought. 

“Don’t you want me to stitch it?” he asked, and Cora couldn’t tell by his tone if he really intended to do that or he was just joking.

“No, Captain. I trust you with the blaster, but I really don’t trust you with that needle,” she said. “Just disinfect it, smear it in bacta and put a patch on it and I’m good. The disinfectant is the purple bottle, by the way,” she instructed, pointing at the medipack.

“Cora,” he said, stopping whatever he was doing, “I got this. I’ve done it a million times before.”

“I know, I’m just… micromanaging,” she said, looking at her fingernails. There were still traces of blood on her hands. 

“Alright then, would you like passing me the disinfectant?” he said.

Cora took the medipack and handed him the bottle over her shoulder. She felt a little more in control now that she had the first aid kit in her hands. She felt like she was actively doing something, as opposed to just waiting for him to finish, and that eased her anxiety a little. 

“Is this your first blaster wound?” he asked, as she hissed from the burning sensation given by the disinfectant.

“No, I shot myself in the leg once before,” she laughed at the memory. “But I guess this is the first one that isn’t self inflicted and completely accidental. My first real battle scar.” It sounded awesome until she realized one thing. “I’ll look like shit in a bikini!” 

He laughed. “I doubt it.”

“Is that a compliment, Captain?” she asked, smiling cheekily at him over her shoulder.

“Maybe?”

He worked fast and clean. Even though she couldn’t see what he was doing, and after he administered the local anesthetic she couldn’t feel anything either, she knew he didn’t lie about doing this plenty of times before just to make her feel better. She could sense it in the way he moved, it was muscle memory. She still told him what to do, even though it was clear that he didn’t need the instructions. 

“Now press on it tightly, and hold until it seals,” she said, as he placed the waterproof patch over her wound. She sighed, relieved. They had done everything that could be done so now her brain was at peace. Somewhat. She had other things to worry about. Like the fact that they may not leave the planet soon (or ever). Or that she could feel his fingers pressing into the skin above the patch, reminding her how his hands once roamed freely under her clothes. 

He seemed to remember the same thing, because she could feel his fingers inching upwards, idly caressing her skin. Even though the contact between them was minimal, she still felt enveloped by his warmth. One finger was brushing against her spine as his hands traveled towards her shoulders, giving her goosebumps. She leaned into his touch, but it was a mistake, because he seemed to realize what he was doing and took his hands away.

“Umm…” he muttered, shifting away from her. “You’re all done.”

“Thanks,” she said, pulling the bloodstained shirt over her head. It was a little gross and definitely unhygienic, but she had no other choice. She was supposed to be a badass smuggler who shouldn’t be queasy. She grabbed her jacket and sighed, poking a whole hand through the charred hole in the fabric. “I really liked this jacket,” she complained, before putting it on. 

“I think we can get you another one, if you’d like.” 

“I don’t think General Draven would give me one for free, as a reward for getting shot on a mission…” she shrugged.

“Probably not,” he laughed. “But we can ask the guys in Storage. If we ask them _nicely_ …”

They both jumped at the piercing sound made by the com. Cassian hurried to turn it on.

_“The situation on Samarkand seems to become increasingly unstable,”_ came K2’s voice from the small device. _“I see more and more locals organize into groups and start to retaliate. I’d advise you to leave immediately. I’ll be waiting for you at the old spaceport up north. It’s currently pretty silent here.”_

“I thought I told you to leave without us,” he shouted into the com.

_“I did exactly as you told me,”_ the droid said, calmly. _“You told me to leave, you didn’t tell me to leave the planet and go back to base.”_

“Semantics,” he growled.

_“Very important. You wouldn’t want to be misunderstood.”_ Cora couldn’t help but smile at the cheekiness. _“Anyway, I’d advise you to hurry. Ours isn’t the only ship docked here.”_

Cassian seemed to think about it for a minute, the lines between his brows deepening. He got up and looked out the window, silently assessing the situation. “Give us two hours,” he finally said. “If we can’t reach your location in two hours, leave without us. And this time, you leave the planet and go back to base, no tricks. Understood?”

_“Understood,”_ the droid agreed, and the line went dead. 

It seemed there was still hope for them. As long as Cassian was with her she wasn’t that afraid, but she still felt like this whole situation could have been avoided if she hadn’t insisted to spend more time on the planet. She was making things difficult for him, so she just wanted to go back to base and call it a day. She was sure that General Draven would yell at her for the rest of her life, but she took responsibility for that. 

Cassian had taken out the macrobinoculars and was looking out the window. “I see two sets of stormtroopers patrolling. I think we’ll lay low for a while. I don’t think we should risk getting into a fight.”

“Do you think they’ll let us leave?” she finally asked what had been bothering her for a while now. “I assume they have a star destroyer up there and TIE fighters. Do you think they’d let us just leave the planet and go into hyperspace?”

“Yeah, they will,” he said, and seemed quite certain of it.

“What makes you so sure of that?”

“I assume they want to take control of the planet, not wipe it out, otherwise they would have used a different tactic,” he explained. “Most of the people you saw on the streets today aren’t locals, just like us. It would make no sense to just imprison them all. Most of them are rich citizens of the Empire that just came here to have a little fun. Yes, most of the businesses on Samarkand are illegal, but it would bring the Empire a good deal of money if they were under their protection.”

“So they’ll just let them go in the hopes that when they come back and spend more money, but in this case, the taxes would go to the Empire?”

“Yeah,” he said. “It’s a good business. Besides, I don’t think there are enough stormtroopers in the city to fight them all right now. They can be very dangerous people and who knows what illegal weapons they’re hiding on their ships. If they all took up arms, there wouldn’t be much of an invasion. The stormtroopers just scare them off and let them leave, so they only have to deal with the locals and the militia.”

“So why don’t they?”

“What don’t they what? Fight back?”

“Yeah, why doesn’t everyone just fight the Empire if they hate it so much? This is the perfect opportunity to fight it.”

He looked at her and smiled. “Is the Rebellion finally getting to you, Doctor?”

“Oh, shut up.”

“You’ll soon become more dedicated to the cause than General Draven,” he joked, and Cora glared at him. “First of all, they would need someone to organize them,” he said, taking a seat besides her on the mattress. “Right now, they’re just a bunch of people, each with their own agenda. For them to work together, you’d have to offer them something big enough for them to risk their lives for. Most of them live well enough in the middle of the Empire, there’s no reason to fight it. Plus, they probably hate each other, so you’d have to convince them to put aside their differences and work together, and you won’t be able to do that today, in just a few hours.”

“Yeah, I guess,” she replied, thoughtful.

“You could still try to do it,” he laughed. “Cora, Defender of Samarkand. It has a nice ring to it.”

“I’m not sure they’d listen to someone with my pedigree,” she shrugged. “You do it.”

“I don’t think they’d listen to me either. Not really the hero type,” he said. “But even if they did, and let’s say we got them all to work together and we stopped this invasion, it would be a wasted effort on the long run.”

Cora raised an eyebrow. “Why?”

“They’d only send a bigger fleet next time and wipe the whole planet out. We’d win a battle, but in the end we’d lose the war.”

“So what do we do then? We just let them take over, one planet at a time until there’s nothing left?”

“No, that’s why the Rebel Alliance exists,” he said, getting up and moving to look out the window once again. “We fight the Empire and we actually do some damage. Instead of fighting back now and risking to be completely wiped out, Samarkand can help the Rebellion and sabotage them from the inside. One planet as tiny as this one can’t fight the Empire on its own, but it can help us face this common enemy and win in the end.”

Cora couldn’t help but smile. He looked so full of passion when he spoke about the cause. There was a fire in his eyes that burned brighter than what she’d seen before. There was hope, and there was determination. Now she understood why he hated her so much in the beginning. It probably wasn’t personal, he just hated what she represented. 

“Well, Captain, I think I now know why you can’t get a girl,” she laughed.

“And why is that?” he asked, crossing his arms over his chest, pretending to be seriously interested in what she was about to say. 

“You’re in love with the Rebellion,” she said, getting up and stretching her legs. Her back wasn’t hurting anymore, but the sensation of numbness was strange. Still, it didn’t bother her when she walked. 

He smiled, but it was a sad smile, and Cora realized she might have made a mistake with her joke. “You may be right this time,” he said, and went back to looking out the window. 

She joined him by the window, looking at the depressing city. “It’s not a bad thing, you know,” she said. “Being passionate about what you do. We wouldn’t be having a rebellion if there weren’t people who really loved the cause.” She smiled. “Do you think we can win?”

“Maybe, one day. But not today. Today we have to survive.”

They looked out the window for a while, Cassian actually scouting the city, while Cora was just lost in her thoughts. She realized that she had been really selfish. She didn’t leave the Empire because she wanted the world to be a better place, she just wanted to be free and safe. The world could have gone to hell for all she cared, if her tiny little world remained unshaken. But there were people like Cassian who were sacrificing the quality of their lives to fight for people who they didn’t even know. Who were in this fight because they made a choice, who could leave any time but every day, they chose to stay and keep fighting, because they hoped for a better future for everyone. 

She looked at her bracelets and wondered, if tomorrow they took them off, would she leave? Would she still be here, with Cassian, trapped on a planet that was slowly being taken over by stormtroopers, if she had the opportunity to just get away and live peacefully someplace else? She liked to think she would. Maybe she didn’t care that much about the Rebellion, or about the world, but she cared about him. So she decided she was going to stay, no matter what happened next, because the Alliance was important to him and he meant a lot to her. 

“I think we can go now,” he said, breaking her train of thought. “They seem to have left the area. Are you feeling up for it?” he asked, and Cora nodded. “We can stay here for a while and wait for a rescue team to come pick us up if you’re not feeling ok.”

“Stop coddling me, Cassian, I’m ok.”

“Just making sure,” he said, gathering the rest of their stuff and shoving it back in the backpack. 

The streets were silent, but the air felt tense. She could see where fights had taken place, like burn marks scattered throughout the city. Occasionally she could see the brief, fearful gazes from behind the curtains of the people who had made Samarkand their home. It might have been filthy and depressing, but for some this was the only place they had ever called ‘home’. And now they could be close to losing that, because greed was stronger than compassion in the Empire. 

With her back numb and adequately patched Cora could move a lot faster than before and Cassian didn’t have to keep an eye on her anymore. However, she still caught him throwing her quick glances from time to time. For someone who treated all his injuries, even the more severe ones, like they were nothing serious, he certainly seemed to worry about the graze on her back. He probably considered her quite incompetent for getting injured so stupidly, and she hadn’t proved him wrong until now, but she also felt like he was genuinely worried about her.

They reached the old spaceport without any incidents. Most of the troops seemed to be concentrated in the center of the city, where the smugglers’ guild had their headquarters, so the streets were rather calm. The spaceport, if you could call it so, was just an open space surrounded by tall walls that looked ready to break down at any moment. Safety wasn’t something that Samarkand inspired, but this was a special kind of safety hazard. 

They kept a safe distance and contacted K. He had the ship on the far side of the spaceport, meaning they would have to cross it all to get there. Not surprising at all, there were also other ships docked there, some of which could be a little hostile, Cassian concluded. No stormtroopers were in sight, though.

“So… do me make a run for it?” Cora suggested. “100-meter dash?”

Cassian laughed. “I don’t think that’s the best tactic.”

“It’s the fastest,” she shrugged. “We either reach the ship or we die. Either way, it’s gonna be fast.”

He raised an eyebrow at her, then smiled and shook his head. “Do you have a death wish, Doctor?”

“Not a very well defined one,” she joked, but he didn’t smile this time, listening intently.

“We may actually have to follow your suggestion,” he said, his face serious. “Something’s coming.”

Cora listened, but didn’t hear anything that hinted that there was a battle going on. However, she was going to trust Cassian on this. She was sure he had better hearing than her, or maybe even a sixth sense. He readied his weapon so she did the same, and started advancing towards the spaceport. 

They quickened the pace when they reached the gates, a deep thudding sound becoming louder and louder. Before they even knew it, they were surrounded by a bunch of raggedy looking people, running for their lives.

“Run, you two!” one of them yelled, passing them.

“Shit!” Cassian swore and started running, Cora following closely looking over her shoulder from time to time. 

The thudding suddenly materialized into the shape of an AT-ST that was apparently following the others. And now, them too, since they were all running in the same direction. 

“Fuuuuck!” Cora screamed, trying to run faster. There was nowhere to hide. Besides the few ships awaiting their owners, there was no place to hide. 

They ran in zig-zag, trying to avoid the walker’s laser cannons. Cassian and a couple of others kept shooting back, and occasionally threw a grenade at it, but Cora focused on running. When she had joined med school she thought she was done with running for good, but here she was, hoping she wouldn’t trip and get crushed under the walker’s feet. 

The AT-ST was catching up fast, especially since the terrain was working in its favour, and Cora could see its shadow almost covering her. The others had scattered, or had been shot, she didn’t pay attention, so the walker was left chasing her and Cassian. However, they had somehow managed to disable one of its cannons, and damage the other one, but even with the decreased accuracy it was still so close to blowing them to pieces. 

Cora’s heart was beating a million times a minute and her lungs felt like they were on fire, but she kept running. She knew that if she stopped, she’d be dead. The only thing that kept her alive was Cassian who was pulling her towards one of the grounded ships. She hoped it would shield them until they found a way to take the walker down. She tried remembering how they dealt with situations like this while she was in stormtrooper training, but she couldn’t recall any scenario in which two people, very lightly armed and armoured, were chased by a nine meter tall war machine.

They were close to the ship, just a few meters away, when she heard a loud bang. She turned her head just in time to see the AT-ST falling towards them. She didn’t have time to react, but Cassian grabbed her by the jacket and threw her forward, under the hull of the ship. She fell down, her legs not working anymore. 

Fortunately Cassian had enough time to throw himself besides Cora, before the walker fell over the ship, the crashing sound almost deafening. He grabbed Cora and pulled her under him, shielding her as much as he could. She knew that if the ship gave in it would crush them both under its weight, but it was comforting having Cassian close. At least she wouldn’t die alone. She put her hands around his neck and pulled him closer.

Surrounded by the the ear-shattering noise, in a state of detachment from what was going on around her, Cora had no idea if she was dying or not. Only when the noise ceased and she felt a foul smelling liquid dripping all over her did she have the courage to open her eyes. Jet fuel, she noticed, probably mixed with engine oil by the colour. She turned her head before it got into her eyes. 

“Are you alright?” Cassian whispered in her ear. She didn’t even try to speak, so she just nodded. “Are you hurt?” he asked again, and she shook her head after wiggling her legs a little to make sure they were still in place.

“You?” she whispered, her voice small and shaky, arms still around his neck.

“I’m ok.” His body relaxed, letting Cora support all his weight for a brief moment, before propping himself on his elbows and looking around. “We have to get out of here before it crushes us.”

The ship had sustained a lot of damage, but even if one of the landing skids had given way under the force of the impact, the other one was still holding, saving both their lives. They scrambled to get out from under it while it was still standing, managing to get drenched in fuel and covered in dust, probably also bruising their elbows and knees. They were alive. 

The U-Wing was waiting for them behind the fallen scout walker, K-2 hurrying towards them. 

“That was a really close call,” he said, in a deeply disapproving tone. 

“Thanks for saving our skin,” Cassian said, breathing a sigh of relief.

“Well, someone had to do it.”

“I guess we should hurry,” Cora suggested, pointing towards a squad of stormtroopers who were just entering the spaceport gates. 

“Shit!” Cassian cursed and urged them to the ship. 

They took off before the stormtroopers had the time to reach them, and Cora could finally breathe freely. Somewhat. She had jet fuel in her nostrils and it was burning. Actually, the chemicals irritated her skin and made it itch. She hoped the patch on her back was still holding, because she really didn’t want to know what jet fuel would do on an open wound. 

“K, make the hyperspace jump as fast as you find a safe route. It doesn’t matter where to, just take us out of here,” he said, looking out the viewport at the star destroyer looming over Samarkand. It was the smaller, Victory-class destroyer, so Cora knew the Empire didn’t go all out on this mission. No one seemed to notice (or care), that they had left the planet. They weren’t the only ones anyway, as she could see other ships going into hyperspace. “We have to take a shower before we get chemical burns,” he said, pushing Cora towards the living quarters. 

The doors opened and the lights automatically turned on and Cora found herself in a tiny cabin. Tiny was an understatement, as there was barely any space for anything there. There was a table that could be pulled up to make more space when it wasn’t in use. The bed, that looked oddly similar to what she had slept on while imprisoned, was currently pulled up, otherwise she was sure they wouldn’t have enough space to move.

She felt a little awkward intruding into Cassian’s personal space, even though she knew she really needed that shower before she smeared everything in jet fuel or she caught fire. However, it was unusual seeing something as intimate as the place where someone slept.

There was a pair of worn out boots thrown in a corner and a sniper rifle leaning on the wall next to it. A parka and some trinkets were negligently flung on the table, but apart from those, and a few diagrams stuck to the walls, the room looked clean and empty. The cabin of a soldier. 

“The shower is in the back,” he said, urging her to go first. “Just throw your clothes on the floor, I’ll get you some clean ones.”

She entered the shower and peeled off the wet and sticky clothes, dropping them into a pile on the floor, kicking them into a corner so she didn’t trip on them. She regretted having to part with the badass smuggler outfit, but she was sure it was already ruined. Maybe she’d find another cool one in Storage, but she knew it would be of no use to her: after another mission that almost ended with them getting killed (even though, again, it wasn’t her fault) she was sure Draven would never let her leave the base. White, medical uniform would be her only outfit for the rest of her life. 

The water felt good on her skin, washing away the fouls smelling fluid. She grabbed a bar of soap and thoroughly scrubbed herself, but her skin still felt oily and dirty. Getting it out of her hair was another challenge, the engine oil and jet fuel mix seemed to stick to every strand and even after soaping it a few times still didn’t seem to wash off completely. Fortunately, the patch on her back was still holding.

She jumped in surprise when the door opened and a naked Cassian stepped in. She didn’t expect him to join her, but she realized that she was taking her time with the shower and they were in a hurry. She backed into a corner, leaving as much space between them as possible, even though it almost wasn’t enough for both of them to fit.

Cora was very aware of how close and how naked they were. Cassian had his back turned to her, offering her a little privacy. She knew the right thing to do would be to get out of there as fast as possible, looking away, but the only thing she could do was stare at the way his back muscles moved as he washed himself. She was absent-mindedly clutching the bar of soap in her hand while the water washed down her skin. She was amazed at how fast the adrenaline that was still running through her veins turned into arousal.

“You’ve missed a spot,” she said, making up her mind. 

He looked over his shoulder, trying to find the spot he couldn’t reach, but Cora covered it with a soapy hand. He looked her in the eye for a moment, then turned back around, letting her clean it. His skin felt soft under her fingers and even after the dark spot of grease was no more, she still couldn’t take her hand away, letting her fingers follow the shape off his spine down to his waist. 

He slowly and hesitantly turned around, as if giving her the chance to stop him. She didn’t. She extended her arm and rested it on his abdomen, right above his semi-erect cock. She felt him tense for a moment, then relax and cover her hand with his. He looked at her for a second, wet hair sticking to his forehead and water dripping from his beard. There was a look of determination in his eyes when he pulled her closer, pressing his lips onto hers in a hungry kiss. She grabbed onto his shoulders, pressing herself into him, finally able to feel his naked skin on hers. She hadn’t realized how much she needed to feel him like this and her body was shivering a little at the contact. 

His hands were roaming freely over her body, his fingers over her naked skin giving her goosebumps and making the fluttering in the pit of her stomach increase to the magnitude of a medium tornado. However, the moment he touched the patch he seemed to remember her injury and started to back away. 

“Don’t you dare run away now,” she growled in his ear, grabbing his hand and pulling it down to her ass. He chuckled and gave it a playful squeeze, making Cora jump a little and press her chest onto his, before he resumed the kissing and touching and nibbling. Her hand fell down to his cock, squeezing and pumping slowly, making his breath hitch. 

The conditions were less than ideal. It wasn’t the time and place for this, a shower module on board of a U-Wing was definitely not designed with sex in mind, but even with water getting into their mouths and the constant risk of slipping and breaking something, they were too immersed into each other to care. They seemed determined to make up for that missed opportunity in the catacombs, so now their hands and lips were freely touching each other’s bodies, trying to draw out as much pleasure in as little time as possible. 

A sudden jolt that sent them flying into a corner signalled that they had entered hyperspace. After making sure neither of them was hurt, they decided that shower sex was a fantasy they would have to fulfil another time, on less shaky ground, and reentered the cabin, leaving the shower door open and the water running. The cabin wasn’t designed with sex in mind either, but they were both intent to somehow make this work. 

Cassian lifted Cora up and placed her onto the small table, without bothering to make some space first so her ass landed on the blue parka. 

“Is there anything that may go up my ass?” she asked, touching the material with her hands, making sure nothing was going to poke her.

“Uhm…” he looked around and picked up a metal tube off the table. “A silencer?” he said, before throwing it on the floor.

“Kinky,” she laughed, and pulled him closer, running her fingers through his hair and kissing him passionately.

“I’ve got,” he said, breaking the kiss after a few moments, “...somewhere.” He checked a pocket and then a container on the table and finally emerged with a pack of condoms.

“Do we really need that?” she asked, pulling him closer, suddenly feeling cold without his hot touch.

“I don’t know,” he said, brushing his lips over the skin on her neck. “You tell me, you’re the doctor.”

Because she was the doctor she knew that safety comes first, but she also knew for a fact that both of them were clean and she had a military grade birth control implant, so nothing could happen. This whole thing was so unexpected and she wanted to feel him fully. So just this time, she decided to put pleasure first. 

“We’re good,” she whispered in his ear, and Cassian dropped the condoms.

He positioned himself between her legs, holding her thighs in a firm grasp. Their foreheads were almost touching and he was looking into her eyes, hesitating for just a second, so she grabbed him by the shoulders and pulled him into an embrace. He buried himself deep into her as she gasped into his ear, pressing herself even closer to him. She could feel his breath on her neck as he let her adjust and then the tiny kisses along the sensitive skin behind her ear.

They were mostly silent, like they were only used to having sex where they risked getting caught. The water still running in the shower was muffling any stray moan or gasp that may have left their lips as they rocked into each other. It wasn’t rough, but it definitely wasn’t gentle. It was primal and needy, their bodies almost moving on their own, finding a rhythm that suited both of them. 

It didn’t take long before they found the much needed release, the excitement of the day, the fear and the adrenaline contributing to it. They collapsed into each other’s arms, ragged breaths and heated bodies, their brains floating in the clouds of pleasure. They stayed like that for a while, snuggled up into an embrace, Cora’s fingers idly playing with the hair on the back of his neck. She was feeling drowsy and content in his arms.

Cassian broke the embrace, a little too soon for Cora’s liking. “I have to take us home,” he whispered in her ear, his voice a little deeper than usual. 

She nodded and hopped off the table, her knees feeling weak, and her body aching for rest, but she knew there was no time for that yet. She was still wet and without his arms around her, she started feeling cold, but before she started shivering, Cassian protectively wrapped her in a blanket. 

She leaned against a wall, patiently watching him get dressed. He was way too energetic for someone who was just coming down from the heights of an orgasm, but she assumed cuddling after sex was something he just didn’t do. No matter how much she wanted to pull him close and hold him there for a while, basking in his warmth, she knew she couldn’t do it. So she just wrapped herself tighter in the blanket and yawned. 

“I have to bring us home,” he said once again, putting a stack of clean clothes on the table for her to use. “We’ll have to make a few jumps until we get back, so you can pull down the bed and rest for a while.” She nodded and decided she may actually take him up on that offer, a sort of sluggishness taking over her. “See you later,” he said, and before she could say anything he was out. 

Cora smiled. “No kiss goodbye, Captain Andor?” she whispered to herself before going to turn off the water.

 

*

 

When Cassian entered the cockpit he noticed that they were no longer in hyperspace. He didn’t feel the ship leaving it, but to his defence, he hadn’t been paying attention. He took a seat on the pilot chair and grabbed his headset.

“You took your time,” K2 criticised him.

“Yeah,” he didn’t deny. There was no point. “Do you have the calculations for our next jump?” he asked, not wanting to delay their arrival at base any longer.

“Where is she?” the droid asked, looking back over his shoulder. 

“Resting, I assume.”

“I see.” The droid was curiously looking at Cassian and he didn’t understand why. “You’ve showered,” he said, and Cassian raised an eyebrow. It wasn’t like the droid to state such banalities.

“Yes,” he replied, not knowing where this was going.

“Together?” 

“What?” He looked at him wide eyed. He couldn’t have heard them, not with the water running, and not while in hyperspace. Then what? Did he just assume it? That wasn’t like him either. “Of course not,” he denied it, going back to looking out the viewport.

“Right,” the droid said, as Cassian started the procedure to enter hyperspace. “Because that would be highly unhygienic,” he finished. 

“Kriff!” Cassian whispered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooooo... ummm. There's been a little action in this chapter. Not very explicit though. I felt like for this chapter at least, writing anything more detailed than this wouldn't have worked. I don't know yet if, in this story, I will write the sex scenes more explicitly than this, it will depend a lot on how the story progresses. If I decide to do it, you will probably see the rating go up. 
> 
> Anyway, feel free to tell me if you liked it or not. Cheers!


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's been half a century, but life got in the way. I know the chapter is a bit short, but I really wanted to get something out this month, so a short chapter it is. I can't promise anything, but I hope to be able to post the next one in ten days or so. Unfortunately, I'm not home this weekend, so half the time i could spend writing is kinda gone. 
> 
> Anyway, I hope you all enjoy this! Thank you so much for the comments, likes and bookmarks, but above all, thanks for reading. As always you can find me on tumbr @joeybelle.
> 
> Special thanks to Jo, my ff soulmate.

Cora had heard about the storm season the moment she started working in the infirmary, but she had never experienced the magnitude of a full blown tropical storm before, so she had no idea what to expect. She assumed she would be taken by surprise, like it was the case with so many things that regarded planets and nature, but she certainly did not think it to be so brutal and out of the blue. 

Truth be told, they had been talking about changes in the atmosphere for a while, something about the air pressure and humidity, but to Cora their levels always seemed to be a lot higher than what she was used to, so she didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary. Until one afternoon when all hell broke loose: ungodly amounts of water started pouring down and the wind threatened to just blow everything off the moon’s surface. For the first few days the only thing the rebels did was to secure the ships in the hangar and make sure the temple wouldn’t be flooded. 

The med bay had been eerily silent, with half of the rebels busy with the storm and the other half talking some much needed time off, it seemed that suddenly they had better things to do than get sick. That didn’t mean there were no accidents, but even so, with all the missions on hold, it was almost a little too peaceful.

And because of that, Doctor Crane refused to let her take shifts until her back injury was fully healed, even though Cora knew she could do still do her job as long as she didn’t try to lift heavy things. But the doctor flat out refused. Unfortunately, she couldn’t just stay locked in her room all day (mostly out of fear that the underground may end up flooded and she’d be trapped), so she spent most of the time between the two med bays anyway, trying to fight off boredom and take her mind off the constant itching of her scar that was starting to get to her. It mostly meant mopping up the water that inevitably infiltrated through the cracks, restocking the med supplies or just hanging out with her fellow doctors as they watched how the storm ravaged the jungle. 

She hadn’t seen Cassian since they came back from Samarkand. He made sure she made it safely to the med bay then he left to deal with the higher ups. On one hand, Cora was thankful that she didn’t have to see Draven and get yelled at, but Cassian disappeared so fast she couldn’t help but wonder if maybe he was trying to avoid her. The fact that he was nowhere to be seen since that day pretty much cemented that assumption.

She wasn’t sure why he avoided her anyway. She hoped that he knew by now that she wasn’t about to pull him into a conversation about their feelings, one that none of them wanted to have because they weren’t the type of grown ups that could take responsibility for the shit they’d done. Instead they would pretend it didn’t happen until they’d be covered to their necks in said metaphorical shit. But she had the impression that he regretted it and it killed her inside. She didn’t expect them to start walking hand in hand around the base like a lovestruck couple, but he wasn’t someone she didn’t give a shit about and didn’t care if she’d see again or not. She was aware that the sex they had was basically just scratching an itch, an outlet to release the tension of that day and not a declaration of undying love, but she really hoped he wouldn’t throw her aside now that the deed had been done. He didn’t give her the impression that he’d just pretend he didn’t know her, but there was nothing to reassure her and her head had gone into over thinking mode. She wished she could talk to someone about this, and Lewella probably knew Cassian better than she did and could give her some advice, but she just couldn’t get herself to open up about it. 

And for her it wasn’t just an itch, or rather, it was the type of itch that you kept scratching and scratching until everything became a bloody mess. She kept the necklace around her neck, hidden underneath her clothes, and only in the intimacy of her own room, at night, she took it out and sometimes looked at the ugly picture and smiled. She was getting sentimental, it seemed. A long, long time ago she could have sex with someone and pretend nothing happened afterwards. But Cassian was special, she kept thinking. She had gotten attached to him a long time ago, without realizing. Even when she hated him, there was a part of her that wanted him near. But now he was away and there were no sign that he would be back anytime soon. 

Cora was leaning on the window frame in the med bay upstairs, a coffee cup warming her hands, absent-mindedly looking out the window. It seemed as if the storm had calmed down and turned into a light drizzle, but she found out over the past few days that it could go back to pouring any minute. The sky was darker that she had ever seen it, and if she were honest, it was a little frightening. 

There was a leak in the ceiling that was steadily dripping water into a bucket she had placed underneath, the sound echoing in the otherwise silent room. The med droids had gone back to their charging stations and Doctor Crane was seated at his desk, doing some paperwork since there was nothing else to do. 

“What seems to be bothering you?” he asked, and Cora turned away from the window to look at him. 

“Why do you think there’s something bothering me?” she said, quirking an eyebrow.

“You seem a little melancholic lately,” he said, taking off his reading glasses and taking a good look at her. “You spend a lot of time looking out the window.”

“It’s the weather,” she explained. “Stimulates contemplation.”

He chuckled. “That’s why you’ve been sighing for the past two hours like a lovesick maiden waiting for her man?”

Cora smiled and shook her head. She wasn’t aware she had been doing it, and now she was feeling really embarrassed that Doctor Crane had noticed. “Ah, well,” she stammered, trying find a way to divert the conversation. “I’m bored. At least give me something to do before I sigh my heart out.”

“You’re not fully healed yet,” he said in his very professional doctor voice.

“But am I dying?”

“There’s not much to do anyway, not with everyone busy with keeping the storm out,” he said, and went back to the papers. Cora wearily looked at him, hoping that the conversation was over. “Did anything happen on your mission on Samarkand?” he asked, after a few minutes of silence taking her by surprise once again. 

“Umm… the planet was taken over by the imperial forces,” she said, knowing full well that he already knew what had happened, “and I got shot in the back.” 

“Did anything happen between you and Cassian?” he clarified. His face may have been wrinkly, but his eyes seemed surprisingly lively as he studied her over the datapad in his hands. Cora wondered if he could read minds. Even if he couldn’t, she was sure he could still read her like an open book.

“No. No... Nothing happened,” she said, and wondered if he could sense the lie. “Why?” She eyed him suspiciously. She had a feeling he knew something she didn’t.

“No reason in particular,” he said, and went back to work, but he must have noticed the look of poorly hidden panic on her face, because he put the data pad down once again. “He seemed a little distracted last time I saw him,” he explained, but to Cora it meant nothing. 

“And that’s odd because…?”

“He doesn’t get distracted. If anything, he’s a little too focused.”

Cora tried to remember if she’d ever seen him like that, but she couldn't so she had to agree with the doctor. “But why do you think it’s my fault?” she asked, trying to find out just how much the doctor knew.

He laughed and Cora could feel the blood quickly rush to her face. It wasn’t a good sign. “I’m old,” he said. “Whether old age comes with wisdom or senility I don’t know, but I can assure you I can still put two and two together.”

Cora smiled, a little flustered, but didn’t say anything. She felt that if she tried to deny it she would only dig herself a little deeper into her hole. Her poker face could use some training as she knew she wasn’t the most believable liar in the world. She wondered if the doctor could read Cassian just as easily as he seemed to read her. He was certainly much better at hiding his emotions. 

“When did you last see him?” she finally asked, curiosity getting the best of her. Right now it didn’t matter what Doctor Crane would deduce from that, she was just worried. 

“Right before the storm started,” he explained, and Cora felt her stomach clench painfully. So he had been on base a few days ago and she didn’t get to see him. “He was only grounded for a few hours. He left in a hurry.” It didn’t really make her feel any better knowing that he had only been on base for a short period of time, even though the logical part of her brain was desperately trying to tell her that he was in fact busy and not trying to avoid her at all. It was fighting a losing battle. 

“Do you have any idea where he was heading to?” she asked, trying to sound casual.

“I’m sorry, but I don’t know. I didn’t really get to talk to him much.” The look on the doctor’s face was one of gentle understanding. “You could probably ask General Draven…”

“Yeah, I’d rather take a long walk in the jungle outside in the middle of the storm than ask General Draven anything, thank you very much,” she said, crossing her arms, defensively. She had no problem if Doctor Crane assumed there was something between her and Cassian, but the mere thought of Draven finding out made her nauseous. 

The doctor laughed at her vehemence. “Then you’ll just have to wait.”

Cora sighed and went back to looking out the window. The wind had picked up again and the forest looked like it was going to break under its force. It was a desolating view for her, who was mostly used to the calm glimmering of stars. It felt like, in a way, it was a metaphor for her life: the calm, sheltered life in the Empire was no more, and now she was left to find her way in unpredictable conditions. It was scary.

The doors opened, and she pulled herself out of the contemplative state she had gotten lost into once again, ready to greet the patient, but it was only Aidan.

“Does anyone want to go get lunch?” he asked.

“I’ve had something to eat earlier,” Doctor Crane excused himself. “But you can take Cora so she won’t threaten me with dying of boredom anymore.”

“Ha-ha!” she said, throwing him an icy glare. “You should have given me a shift instead of complaining, Doc. I’m almost healed. It itches like crazy.”

“Put some more bacta on it,” Aidan suggested.

“It doesn’t help with the itching, I’ll just have to take the stitches out.”

“I advise you not to do that just yet,” Doctor Crane frowned. “It’s safer to leave them on a little longer.”

“But it’s itching,” she whined. “And they feel weird.”

“It’s going to itch for a while no matter what you do,” Aidan took Doctor Crane’s side and Cora groaned.

“But…” she insisted.

“You’re almost as bad a patient as Captain Andor,” Doctor Crane laughed.

“No, no! Don’t even think of putting me in the same category as Captain Andor! I am nowhere nearly that obnoxious!” she huffed. “I will go have lunch now, because you hurt my feelings, Doctor. My heart weeps. And I am taking the shift the day after tomorrow because I know it’s not covered.”

Doctor Crane shook his head. “We’ll see. Go get some lunch while there’s still something left.”

Cora didn’t argue anymore, but pretended to still be hurt by the accusation as she left the med bay and hurried to the mess hall alongside Aidan. They were right to be worried that there would be no food left. With almost all the rebels stuck on base, mealtimes were livelier than ever, which meant a perpetually crowded mess hall and disgruntled servers. 

Cora looked around, instinctively trying to find Cassian in the crowd, even though Doctor Crane had already said that he wasn’t on base and he wouldn’t be coming back until the storm calmed down. Nonetheless, she still scanned the crowd and deep down, she was a little disappointed when he was nowhere to be seen. 

There was no empty table in the mess hall and Cora even suspected they had brought in some of the tables from the meeting rooms, because there were just too many people. They had no choice but to grab some sandwiches and leave. They headed for the med bay downstairs where they found Lewella drinking coffee on one of the crates just outside the sliding doors.

The hangar doors had been closed once the storm started, but you could still hear the howling of the wind beyond them. It was currently the noisiest part of the base, where you felt the closest to the apocalypse outside and Cora found it unsettling. Planets (or moons, or anything without a fully controlled artificial climate) were scary, she decided. She wondered what she would have done if Cassian had kept his promise months ago, and instead of taking her to Yavin he would have left her on an unknown planet. Alone and unprepared. 

“Did you bring me anything?” Lewella asked, when she saw them approaching.

“Depends,” Aidan joked. “Have you been nice today?”

“The nicest. I only yelled at three people.”

“New personal record,” Cora laughed, handing her a sandwich. 

“Mmm, cheese! My favourite,” she said, greedily unwrapping it and taking a huge bite. 

“Everything is your favourite,” Aidan laughed, taking a seat besides her on a crate. 

“You should try starving for a while, it will completely change your view on food,” she pointed out, after managing to swallow the mouthful. “You won’t fully appreciate what you have until you’re deprived of it for a while.”

Cora looked down at her food, but she wasn’t feeling hungry. The hollow feeling in her stomach was more pronounced today than any other day. Her talk with Doctor Crane was certainly to blame, and right now she needed some time alone to put her thoughts in order. 

“How long do you think the storm will last?” she asked, taking a tentative bite of her sandwich.

“Who knows,” Lewella said, between bites. “Could be a week, could be a month. Could stop for a few days then start all over again.”

“You should try asking around the command center. Someone must have some meteorological data,” Aidan suggested.

“Why? You planning on going somewhere?” Lewella asked, curious.

“Yeah, on a very long vacation away from rainforests and storms,” Cora laughed.

“What? Samarkand wasn’t enough of a vacation for you?”

“I wouldn’t call it a vacation. It was a bit too…” She had to stop for a moment and push the images of Cassian naked in the shower in the back of her mind, before she started blushing which would certainly raise some unwanted questions. “...Eventful. I like not getting shot on my vacations.”

“Samarkand is supposed to be eventful, that’s why people go there in the first place,” Aidan said, a little embarrassed. “When we were still in med school some friends of mine thought it would be a good idea to go there on vacation and try our hand at Sabacc. We came back home broke and humiliated. One of us had a broken sternum. I swore never to set foot on that damned planet again.”

“How much money did you lose?” Lewella asked, a mischievous smile playing on her lips. 

“A considerable amount,” he said, brows furrowed, refusing to give any solid numbers. To Cora this was new information, she had no idea he gambled. 

“You disgust me,” Lewella said, her face perfectly serious, but Cora knew she was joking, since it was a well known fact that the Twi’lek had a bit of a gambling problem herself.

Their conversation was cut off short by the loud rumbling of thunder. Cora jumped and almost dropped her food on the floor. She had only experienced thunder in her childhood and she didn’t remember it to be as loud and scary as the ones on Yavin. 

“Tell me you’re not scared of thunder,” Lewella laughed. 

“I’m not, they’re just… loud and unexpected,” Cora said, looking at her hands, embarrassed. 

“They’re not that unexpected, the lightning comes first,” Aidan explained.

“Yeah, but can you see it from inside the building?” Cora asked, a little annoyed. “No, you can’t, so there is no way to predict them.”

“She’s afraid of thunder,” Lewella continued to laugh, holding her stomach.

“Oh, shut up,” Cora mumbled and got up to leave.

“Where are you going?”

“Back to my room to take a nap. The weather’s making me sleepy and everyone refuses to give me any work.”

Lewella yawned and got up as well, throwing the wrapper in the trash. “You should enjoy the time off while you can. Only gods may know when you’ll get some again.”

“Yeah, I know,” she sighed. “There’s just not much else to do on base besides work.” Plus, she had no way of distracting her mind from overthinking the whole Cassian situation, which, honestly, may only be a situation in her own mind, but she had too much free time and thinking apparently didn’t do her any good. 

She let them go back to work while she headed towards the elevators, her uneaten lunch tucked in one of her jacket’s pocket. The hangar looked darker and creepier than ever, the wail of the wind ravaging the forest echoing from wall to wall. She stopped near a small observation window cut in a wall and looked outside. The dark clouds made it look like it was already evening, even though it was only a little past noon. The landing strip in front of the temple was covered in broken branches and ripped vegetation. She wondered what would happen if someone tried to land in that weather. 

“He’s on Samarkand,” she heard a voice in her ear and nearly walked through the window trying to get away from it. “A bit jumpy, ey Doc?” 

“Melshi, do that again and you may end up with a scalpel between your ribs,” she threatened, pressing a hand over her rapidly beating heart. 

“That’s just an idle threat, Doc. You don’t always carry a scalpel on you…” he laughed.

“You wanna bet?” Cora said, quirking an eyebrow.

“On second thought, no, I’m good.”

Cora leaned on the wall and crossed her arms over her chest, taking a good look at Meshi. Since she met him she didn’t really talk to him much, just the occasional exchange of hellos in the hallways but not more than that, so she was curious why he approached her now. “Who’s on Samarkand?” she asked.

“The Holy Spirit,” he said, in a very serious tone, but Cora knew he was mocking her. “Cassian, of course. You know, the one you keep trying to spot in the crowd and sigh dramatically when you don’t.”

“I don’t do that!” Cora defended herself. “And besides, how would you even know something like that? Are you following me, Melshi?”

“First of all, you really do that. And second, your second sentence kind of invalidates the first.” He smiled. “No, I don’t follow you, I just have keen observation skills.”

“Kriff, Lewella was right. You’re shady as fuck.”

“That’s a very hurtful thing to say, Doctor Enoch. I was just trying to help you.”

Cora had to agree, but she didn’t really feel sorry. It was the truth after all. She sighed. “Sorry. How long has he been on Samarkand?” She could see the corners of his mouth curving into a smile and Cora hoped she didn’t make a mistake.

“He’s been sent back just a few hours after you guys landed. He got his orders and left and I assume he’s going to be there for a while.”

Cora realized what an idiot she had been. Of course they would have sent him back to Samarkand, the Rebellion needed eyes on that planet and Cassian was the obvious choice. She had been so stupid letting her mind get so clouded by made up worries that she didn’t realize the obvious even though it was right in front of her. 

“But he’s been back on base a few days ago, before the storm started,” she said, remembering what Doctor Crane said earlier.

“Oh, so you know more than I thought.”

“Doctor Crane mentioned it,” she defended herself.

Melshi laughed. “Yes, he’s been back, but just briefly. He had a few words with the superiors and grabbed some supplies and went back. I don’t know any details.”

“I see,” she said, pulling the jacket closer to her body. They didn’t even let him rest for a day. She knew that his job meant he had to spend a lot of time in the field, but not letting him sleep at least one night in his own bed was downright cruel. She envisioned him sleeping in the empty room in the attic, surrounded by the constant threat of being caught or killed, and felt sorry for him. Somehow in her head, this was all General Draven’s fault, so she hated him a little more. “Do you have any idea when he might be back?”

Melshi shrugged. “No idea. Not until the weather changes, I assume. He may be away for a while.”

Cora nodded. “Thanks,” she said looking away. “For telling me. Hopefully he’ll be back safely.”

“He will be,” he said, patting her shoulder in an encouraging way. “It’s good to know that someone worries about him, though.”

Cora frowned. “A lot of people worry about him, I assume.”

“You’d be surprised at how short that list is,” he said, and there was a sad smile on his face. “But you know what they say,” he said, the faint smile turning into a grin and Cora was already prepared to groan, “absence makes the heart grow fonder. So a little distance may do you good.”

Cora felt her expression involuntarily turn into a frown. She wondered if he could be serious for more than five minutes. She felt like she always had to be defensive around him, because he somehow had the ability to make her uncomfortable. Maybe because he knew about this thing between her and Cassian and he really wasn’t supposed to know.

“Oh, fuck off,” she said, as Melshi was still grinning at her. 

“Right. I’ll leave you then. Nice talking to you, Doc,” he said, taking off towards the elevators. “By the way, I like the sandwich in your pocket, nice touch.”

“Just leave already,” she yelled after him, laughing. 

She waited until she was sure he had taken an elevator up and there was no way of bumping into him again, before she decided to head to her room. The underground was even more silent than usual, without the sound of the ships taking off. The storm outside was just a distant humming, muffled by the stone walls.

She let herself fall onto her bed, covering her head with a pillow. This wasn’t ok. She was much too used to keeping her distance from people and being alone. She didn’t like the way her heart started beating faster every time she saw him; she didn’t like the feeling in her gut when she remembered how his hands felt on her skin; she didn’t like how her heart ached when she thought that maybe he really didn’t care about her and that their time together was just a mistake. The voice in her head kept telling her: if it hurts now, just wait until he completely shatters your heart. Imagine that pain. Even if it’s not going to happen now, it will happen one day. You know it well. Whether they leave or die, you’ll always be alone in the end. Because that’s what you’ve always been: alone.

She had to get up when she felt wetness seeping through her clothes and she realized she had absent-mindedly sat on her sandwich. She took the mushy mess out of her jacket’s pocket and threw it in the bin. 

“Fuck’s sake,” she cursed, heading for the shower.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woo! A chapter! Sorry for the delay, but I got a bit distracted by my duties as a human being in society and didn't have that much time to write. Thank you all for your patience and for you comments and kudos, and above all, for reading and enjoying my story. Love you all.
> 
> A million thanks to my wonderful beta, Llexeh, my number one reader. Literally <3

“Congratulations! You are, as per your request, stitch-free,” Lewella finally said, applying a bacta patch over the scar and pressing tightly. 

It was about time! It had been a little more than a week since Cora came back to base with the blaster wound on her back and had Lewella stitch her up, and for the past couple of days it had been itching so badly it almost drove her mad. Under the threat that she’d just rip them out, Lewella finally gave in, but not before lecturing her for what felt like an eternity. 

“Thanks,” Cora said, putting her top back on and hopping off the consultation table. The wound was still itching, but she forced herself to ignore it. “Another day and I would have just set myself on fire.” She wasn’t sure that would work, given the humidity in the air, but she was determined to try.

Lewella laughed. “You’re still not cleared for any demanding physical activity or you’ll risk ripping it open once again,” she said, cleaning up. “And yes, that includes wild sex too,” she added, pointing a finger at Cora’s nose. 

“What gave you the impression that I’m planning a workout in the near future?” Cora said, yawning lazily. Lewella was right. The wound wasn’t as deep as it could have been, but it was certainly not ‘just a scratch’, as Cassian led her to believe. It took Lewella quite some time to sort it out, but in the end there would be no permanent muscle damage, just an ugly scar that may or may not fade in time. She had been lucky. It could have been so much worse. “Or wild sex for that matter.”

“You’re young, Cora. Don’t morph into everyone’s favourite grandma already. Have some fun. Live life to the fullest!”

“I am having fun!” Cora protested. “And also a 16 hour shift tomorrow.”

“Did he let you go back to work?” she asked and Cora nodded. “Look, I’m not saying that you shouldn’t be doing your job, hell, if it weren’t for you, I have no idea how we’d cover all the shifts, but don’t use it as an excuse to isolate yourself.” Lewella crossed her arms over her chest, looking at her disapprovingly. “And maybe, just maybe, take it easy sometimes? I know there’s nothing to do now, since there’s a storm and all, but when it ends, take a few days off and go someplace and have fun.”

“Yeah, went someplace and came back needing 15 stitches.”

“That was still work,” she pointed out. 

“You know I can’t leave this place unless it’s work related,” Cora said, and it sounded a little harsher than intended. “I can’t even go to the fucking jungle outside unless I want to experience the thrill of being tased!” She didn’t want to make it sound like such a big deal, but she was still bitter about it.

Lewella avoided her gaze, making herself busy with some equipment. “I’m sorry,” she finally said, and Cora regretted the outburst. She could tell that her friend was feeling guilty, even though she had nothing to do with it. 

“Not your fault, Lew,” she assured her, forcing herself to smile. “Plus, it’s basically the exact amount of freedom I had while working for the Empire.” It was only half a lie. Sure, there she could always ask for time off, but she was certain that 90% of the time she would have been refused unless her father intervened. Plus, she had nowhere to go anyway, so she had no idea what to do with her time off. “Honestly, the time spent here has been a lot more exciting than most of my adult years in the Empire.”

Lewella chuckled. “That must have been really boring.”

“Tell me about it.”

“At least you have the Rebellion to show you how to live your life from now on,” she laughed. “Smart choice joining us,” she said, winking at Cora.

“It wasn’t my choice,” Cora said, grabbing her jacket and putting it on. Some guys from Storage gave it to her after they found out she had fallen in love with the one that was ruined by the blaster shot on Samarkand. Early birthday present, they said. It didn’t fit as snuggly, and it looked a little worn out, but she loved it anyway. “I was kidnapped, remember?” she said, struggling a little with the buckles.

“Kidnapped isn’t really the word I would use,” she heard Cassian’s voice coming from somewhere behind her, and jumped. It can’t be, she thought, but there he was, leaning on the doorframe, drenched and looking more tired than she’d seen him in a while, but alive and smirking at her. 

“Oh,” she managed to articulate. “And what word would you use, Captain?” she said in the most sarcastic voice she could muster, trying to mask her unease. 

“Forcefully recruited?” He shrugged and entered the small consultation room.

Cora’s heart started racing and she had to force herself to keep her breathing even. She had gotten so used to the thought that she wouldn’t be seeing Cassian until the storm ended that she stopped looking for him. And so she was taken completely by surprise. Which wasn’t such a bad thing, she figured, because if she had been aware he would be coming she would have probably tried to avoid him. Now, somewhat ambushed by his presence, she had no choice but to face him. 

His clothes were soaked, dripping rainwater on the pristine med bay floors. His hair was sticking to his forehead in a very unflattering manner, but even so he was cute. He reminded her of a puppy that someone fished out of a puddle. She couldn’t help but smile. She had missed him even though right now she didn’t quite know how to deal with him.

“Hey! How did you get here?” Lewella said, once she finally noticed him, a frown appearing between her brows.

“Through the door,” he said nonchalantly. “It was open.”

“No shit, Andor,” she said propping her hands on her hips. “The ER doors are always open. How did you get back to Yavin?”

“By spaceship,” he explained with a completely straight face, and Cora nearly snorted. 

“There’s a storm outside, Andor,” she scolded. “The mother of storms. No one is allowed to land in this weather.”

“I didn’t get that memo,” he said, shoving his hands in his pockets and looking away.

“You didn’t get it or you ignored it?” Cora asked, making him look at her. He seemed tired, she noticed once again. He had dark circles under his eyes and overall looked drained. Cora immediately prescribed him some tonics and bed rest in her head. She wondered if he could be somehow convinced to follow her advice. She doubted it, so she kept her mouth shut. She was off duty, after all.

“Does it really matter?” he asked, and the low tone of his voice stirred the butterflies. “I need another medi-kit,” he said to Lewella, who was still frowning at him.

That request made her frown turn into a raised eyebrow, which to Cora looked even more dangerous. “What happened to the last one I gave you?” she asked, crossing her arms over her chest. 

“I lost it,” he said, with the innocence of a kid scolded by their parent.

“You lost it,” she repeated, in a caustic tone.

“Yes.”

“I gave you the newest medi-kit we have and you lose it less than three weeks after I give it to you?”

“Sounds about right.”

Cassian seemed to want to get himself killed right then and there, because Cora could see how Lewella was becoming increasingly annoyed.

“Well, good job Andor,” she said, the exasperation very noticeable in her voice, “because we are all out of medi-kits and medi-packs. Kriff knows when we’re getting any new ones.”

“I think we got some medi-packs with the last shipment, but they’re some older models,” Cora interrupted Lewella’s outburst, hoping she could somehow avoid a full blown fight. “I don’t think they’ve gotten to sorting that shipment out yet, with the storm and all, but you can ask them to look for one and if they find it I may be able to give you some extra equipment so you can replace your medi-kit,” she offered. “You’d be sort of covered until you find a standard one.”

“Do you think we can do that today?” Cassian asked, and Cora noticed a hint of agitation in his voice. “I have to get going again.”

“Today?!” 

“Andor, there’s no way they’re letting you leave in this weather,” Lewella shook her head. “They shouldn’t have let you land, but now that you are here, you’re grounded.” 

“We’ll see about that,” he said. “Can you help me with the medi-pack?”

“I am not helping you with anything, Andor,” she said and her voice sounded harsh. “I was saving that medi-kit for myself, but I gave it to you because you’re my friend and I love you and you broke my trust when you lost it,” she said, waving a finger in his face. “You can try bribing Cora to help you, but I wouldn’t be too optimistic.”

Cassian huffed and turned around to look at Cora, giving her that pleading look she knew she wasn’t able to resist for long. Not that she didn’t try, stoically holding his gaze and crossing her arms over her chest, trying to be as defensive as possible. But those beautiful brown eyes, and the faint smile in the corner of his mouth when he knew she was about to crack…

“What the hell,” she gave in with a sigh. “I have a day off anyway.”

“You’re so fucking weak,” Lewella muttered, her arms still crossed, a defiant smile on her face. 

“Sue me,” Cora spat back, heading for the door. “Thanks for your help,” she said, her tone changing, before leaving the consultation room, Cassian in tow. 

“Anytime,” Lewella responded, walking them to the exit. “But please keep in mind that you’re still not fully healed. So take care. I know I keep repeating myself, but I have been told that you too have a thick skull.”

“Hey!” Cora exclaimed, seemingly offended. “Those are lies! All lies! I am completely reasonable.”

She didn’t hear anything else as they left the med bay, the noise from the hangar covering all other sounds, so she just waved goodbye. The storm had picked up while she was in there, the wind once again threatening to blow everything off the face of the moon. The huge metal doors clattered and Cora hoped they wouldn’t be unhinged anytime soon. She really didn’t want to have to come face to face with the storm. By how drenched Cassian looked, it must have been pouring too.

She threw him a sideways glance, trying not to get caught staring, even though she knew she could always disguise it as a professional concern for his wellbeing. Not sure he would buy it though. On one hand, she was happy he was back safely and he didn’t seem to be avoiding her but on the other hand she had to fight the urge of getting the fuck away from him and hiding under a rock until he was gone once again. She was so concerned by the made-up fears in her head she didn’t have time to prepare herself for the inevitable meeting. What were they supposed to do now? Talk it out like adults? Pretend it didn’t happen? The second alternative seemed more plausible. 

Luckily, it was way too noisy to start a conversation right then, so the walk through the hangar wasn’t as awkward as it could have been. Still, Cora hoped to get this over with as fast as possible so she could go hide in a dark corner of her room as quickly as possible. 

There was a viewport near the elevators, and Cora kept her eyes glued to the mayhem outside as they waited, avoiding any eye contact with Cassian. But the divinity hated her because lightning struck somewhere in the jungle and the following thunderclap made her jump and yelp like a small, startled animal. Only when she heard Cassian chuckling did she realize that in the heat of the moment she had gotten close to him and latched onto his jacket’s sleeve.

“You’re not afraid of thunders, are you Doctor?” he said in her ear, putting an arm around her shoulders and guiding her into the elevator. 

“Of course not,” she said, blushing furiously and pressing the button to go down, but the thunder that followed proved the exact opposite.

Cassian leaned on the elevator wall and chuckled, making Cora feel even more embarrassed. “I’m not scared, just easily startled. They’re sudden,” she rectified, trying to make it all seem a little less embarrassing. She was ok being laughed at by Lewella and her other friends, but with Cassian, it was a different story. She would really hate to see him looking down on her. 

“Nothing to be ashamed about,” he said, but Cora still didn’t turn around to look at him. “Lightnings like these can be scary. I remember the very first storm after we moved here: half of the base was nervous and jumpy. And it wasn’t even as bad as this one.”

“Is this supposed to be worse than usual?” she asked, frowning at the ceiling from where muffled thunder could still be heard. 

“Yes. This is probably the worse I’ve seen in awhile.”

“Was it difficult to land in this weather?” she asked, finally looking at him, even though she already knew the answer to that question: you’d be crazy to try and land a spaceship in this weather. It was almost impossible to steer the ship properly, the visibility was poor, and you’d risk getting hit by debris. Not to mention the risk of getting struck by lightning, which of course wouldn’t kill you -- the ships were study enough to withstand that much damage -- but it could affect your equipment enough to make you crash.

Cassan just nodded, but didn’t say anything.

“Then why didn’t you wait a while?” she asked. “Until it would have been safer to land.” She knew he followed orders, and to blatantly ignore one that regarded his safety and the safety of his ship and crew was something Cora never thought he’d do. 

He was silent for a few moments, and Cora assumed he didn’t want to share with her the reason why. It was ok, she figured. It wasn’t her business anyway.

“K2 needed some repairs,” he eventually said. “I didn’t have the right parts, and I guess I could have deactivated him until we got back, but I figured I’d just…” he trailed off.

“Is he gonna be fine?” Cora asked, suddenly worried. They weren’t close friends or anything, but in the past weeks Cora had grown quite fond of the cynical droid. 

“Yes. He’s in good hands now.”

“Oh, good.” She sighed, visibly relieved. “I’d miss his sarcastic ass if he were gone,” she said and noticed that Cassian was smiling.

“And how have you been?” he asked after a few moments of silence. “How’s your injury?”

“Good,” she said, trying to sound as sincere as possible. “My back’s a little stiff, and it’s probably going to be like that for a while, but there is no permanent damage. I had the stitches taken out today, so it’s all good. It itches like crazy, though,” she laughed. 

Cassian seemed relieved. She wondered if he had been worried about her, if he ever thought about her while he was away, or if it was just something he remembered now that he saw her. He always seemed so focused on what he was doing that Cora didn’t think he let his mind wander to trivial things like that. She could bet she thought and worried about him more than he ever did about her.

There were storage areas on all levels, but what they needed was most likely stored in the underground level. The air had become increasingly humid in the past few days, Cora though as they navigated the catacombs away from the elevators, and she was afraid that soon enough it may not be breathable anymore. Fortunately, the vents were still working at full capacity, otherwise she was sure she’d suffocate overnight.

Usually there were quite a few people working in Storage, but right now they struggled to find even one. Cora blamed the storm for that.

“Are there none left in the med storage above?” the guy asked, busy loading some electrical parts into a bag.

“No,” Cora said. “I gave away the last one a week ago.”

“Then there are none left,” he concluded, not even looking at them.

“What about Medi-packs? First aid kits? Anything?” Cassian asked, urgency in his voice. 

“Listen, man,” he said, closing the bag, “everything that we had sorted and catalogued has already been sent to Med. There may be some in the mess that is C3, but that takes a lot of time and right now the shield around the main generator is failing and we may not have the right parts to be able to fix it so I really don’t have time for you today.”

“How fast do you think you can find one?” Cassian pressed, seemingly not giving a shit about the main generator.

The worker sighed, pulled an access card out of his pocket and handed it to Cassian. “If you wanna look for one yourselves, be my guest. Just check that it’s locked after you leave and give back the key to someone from Storage or just leave it on my desk,” he said, grabbing the bag and flinging it over his shoulder.

“Wait, so you’re just letting us go unsupervised?” Cora asked, raising an eyebrow. Wasn’t there supposed to be a little more security? 

“Yeah, you’re grown-ups,” he said, turning around and heading for the exit.

“But what if we steal something?” Cora yelled after him, unable to keep her mouth shut.

“If it isn’t catalogued then I don’t give a fuck,” he yelled back before taking a turn and disappearing from their line of sight. 

“Interesting,” Cora said, eyeing the key.

“You’re not planning on actually stealing anything?” Cassian asked, laughing.

“Why not? My dad’s a mass murderer, I may as well live up to the name,” she joked. 

“By stealing from the Rebellion storage?”

“I may be starting small, but I have big ambitions, trust me,” she said, following him towards C3.

C3 was a large warehouse where they just dumped everything they didn’t get to sort out, and because they didn’t always get to throw away the useless stuff that was left after the sorting, it was constantly filled with tons of garbage. For Cora this was exciting. Living all her life in in a carefully controlled environment, she didn’t get to experience too much clutter. This was an opportunity to poke her nose into the piles of unexplored crap and find whatever undiscovered treasures laid there (the fact that she could keep them made her even giddier). She was so excited she had almost forgotten that she was there with Cassian who she had fucked less that two weeks ago and still didn’t know how he felt about that.

The door opened with a click and then automatically closed behind them once they stepped in. Cora had never been in C3 before, so the view was impressive: piles and piles of boxes and containers precariously stacked on top of more boxes and containers. And those were the more organized parts of the storage area, most of it was random pieces of equipment piled together.

“Ok,” Cassian said, letting out a long exhale. “Where do we start?”

Cora was a little overwhelmed. The imperial storage areas she had been used to were a lot more organized than this, probably because no one could afford to waste so much space on a ship. So she felt a little lost. Still, she tried to get her brain to work. “Ummm… They should have labeled the boxes as medical equipment.” She remembered seeing them putting stickers on anything that looked like medical when they got a new shipment, so it would be easier to identify in the future, since medical supplies were usually a priority. “Or emergency equipment, or something. If not, we both know what a medi-pack looks like, start digging,” she offered, not very eager to start. The realization that she had no idea how to find what they were looking for dwindled her enthusiasm a little. 

“Here we go, then,” Cassian said in the ‘less-than-enthusiastic-but-resigned’ voice of someone who had done shit like this before. 

So they started digging. Well, not so much digging as walking between the rows of boxes trying to find the best place to start digging. They checked some containers marked as medical equipment, but they were out of luck, so they started randomly lifting lids and rummaging through piles of random items.

“So I hear you’ve been sent back to Samarkand,” Cora said, breaking the silence. Surprisingly, the silence wasn’t particularly awkward. It seemed that for both of them not speaking and focusing on the task at hand came naturally, but Cora was curious what he had been up to since the last time she’d seen him. 

“Where did you hear that from?” she heard Cassian’s voice coming from the box he was currently leaning into.

“Melshi mentioned it,” she answered, trying to sound nonchalant. 

He resurfaced for just a second and looked at her, his expression unreadable, before diving back into the box. Cora wondered if it wouldn’t have been a better idea to keep her mouth shut, but as always, the thought came much too late. 

“Yes, that’s right,” she heard his muffled voice from inside the container.

“What’s the situation there?” she asked, relieved that he didn’t ask any more details about how and why she knew that piece of information. She realized how it may have sounded, like she was asking around about him which wasn’t true. She never asked, she just moped around hoping she’d be hit by a revelation at some point. 

“Pretty messy,” he said, coming out of the container empty handed and moving onto the next one that looked like it may have what they were looking for. “You may be happy to hear that they’re starting to organize into a resistance and fight back.”

“So they weren’t that easy to conquer,” Cora said, quite impressed. 

He laughed. “No, they weren’t.”

“Do you think they have any chance at winning?” she asked, leaning on the crate Cassian was currently inspecting.

“Not right now. But the Rebellion is backing them up so they won’t lose that easily either. They’ll keep the Empire busy for a while and it will give us some new recruits.”

“So does this mean you’ll have to go back?” Cora hoped her voice didn’t betray her disappointment.

“Yes,” he said, moving onto the next container. “Will you miss me?” he suddenly asked, with his back turned to her.

Cora looked at him wide-eyed. This was exactly the part of conversation she wanted to avoid, because on one hand her brain was screaming at her to deny everything, but on the other hand, if her mind wasn’t playing tricks on her, he sounded almost hopeful. She shoved her hands in her pockets, trying to think of a way to reply to that before the silence between them became too awkward and her fingers met the smooth surface of the locket Cassian gave her on Samarkand. She smiled. She had shoved it in her pocket when she realized that she would have to undress in front of Lewella to get the stitches out, hiding it from her sight. She really didn’t want to have to explain what it was and where she had it from. It was her little treasure, after all.

“Why would I miss you,” she replied, taking the locket out of her pocket and switching the hologram on, “when I have this to remind me of you.”

He finally turned around to look at her and groaned, but couldn’t hide his smile. “Why do you still have that picture?”

“To remind me of you, of course,” she laughed, turning it off and putting the chain around her neck, where it belonged. “And also because you didn’t try to buy it from me, yet.”

“Are you trying to blackmail me, Doctor?” he asked, taking a few steps towards her.

“Not necessarily. I’m trying to vary my sources of income.”

“And how much would deleting a picture like that cost?” He continued to advance, until he was dangerously close.

“Haven’t thought about it yet,” she said, defiantly holding his gaze. “Not less than ten thousand, though.”

He snorted. “Ten thousand credits? Do I look like someone who has ten thousand credits?”

“Well, no, you currently look like a wet puppy,” she joked, extending her arm and brushing a few strands of hair that were still stuck to his forehead. He didn’t flinch under her touch, neither did he try to avoid it. His skin felt cold, and Cora was reminded that he was still wet from head to toe. “But generally,” she continued, “you look like someone who can easily acquire ten thousand credits.”

“Do I?”

“Mhm.”

He took one step closer, nearly closing the distance between them. Cora thought she recognized that playful glint in his eyes, the one he had when he was half joking, half flirting with her. She held his gaze and smirked. After all, they were completely alone in the warehouse, with everyone much too busy to come check up on them. Anything could happen in those circumstances.

The underground was the quietest part of the base, the thick stone walls muffling almost all sound coming from above, but even so the noise that followed resounded through the room. The lights went out, leaving them in complete darkness. It sounded almost like an explosion, the ground shaking a little, and Cora involuntarily grabbed onto Cassian’s coat for reassurance. He protectively placed an arm around her waist, pulling her close. 

“What the fuck was that?” Cora asked, feeling like her heart had climbed into her throat and refused to go back down. 

“I think we may have been struck by lightning,” Cassian answered.

“Shouldn’t we be dead if that happened?”

“No,” he said, letting her go from the sudden embrace. “But I think our generator may be dead. The secondary ones should be taking over any minute now.”

Cora was aware that when you wait in complete darkness your sense of time tends to get a little distorted, but even so, it seemed like the power just refused to come back on. After what seemed like five minutes (or ten, or a million years, she didn’t know anymore) she took out the flashlight from her pocket. 

“Any minute now may take longer than expected,” she said turning it on. The light already hurt her eyes and she needed a little adjusting. “What do we do now?”

“We should try to get out of here,” Cassian stated the obvious, but somehow he didn’t sound very convincing and that was a little scary. However, he took the light out of Cora’s hand and guided them back to the door. It was, no surprise, closed. An automatic door and no power meant they were stuck inside, Cora realized, a little too late, and wondered why she ever lived under the illusion that she was smart.

“Is there any way to pry it open?” she asked, holding the light while Cassian was inspecting the closing mechanism.

“I don’t think so,” he said after a few failed attempts to force it. “It’s a really sturdy door. We’d need something to cut through, and even that would take some time.” He sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

“So we’re stuck in here.” It was now her time to state the obvious.

“I’m afraid so.”

“Are we going to die in here?”

“What? No, of course not,” he said, looking at her with a frown on his face. “The emergency generators will soon take over, and we’ll be able to get out.” He looked at Cora’s panicked expression and his face softened. “They know we’re in here, sooner or later someone will come to get us out. And if they don’t, I bet we can figure something out. We have the whole storage at our disposal.”

“We’ll die!” Cora dramatically collapsed on one of the crates and Cassian snickered. “And it will be your fault, Captain Andor. You and your eagerness to just go back to work. Wouldn’t it have been so much better if we went back to our living quarters, and you know… get locked in there.” She realized the situation wouldn’t have been that much different, apart from being stuck in the intimacy of her room, alone. Even though that would have been a lot more comfortable, being stuck with Cassian wasn’t all that bad. She’d missed him.

“I’m sorry,” he said, and sounded genuinely apologetic. 

Cora shone the light into his eyes. “I was joking,” she said, but in hindsight it was a bad joke. “I saw a lamp in one of the boxes, let’s go look for it.”

They fumbled around in the dark for some time before they finally found the lamp. It was one of those emergency lamps that worked in any condition, and fortunately for them, the battery was still full. So now they had light, a blanket, some military rations and a heavily ornate cushion that Cora had dug out of a box and intended to steal if they ever got out of there alive. 

They set their ‘base’ not very far from the door, just in case someone would come looking for them. The lamp was powerful enough to throw a circle of light around them, so Cora put it up on a crate and continued to explore. Somehow, (there was a little blackmail involved, she shamefully had to admit) she convinced Cassian to remove some of his wet clothes and his boots after he started sneezing and now he was sitting on a crate, wrapped up in a blanket, grumpily staring at Cora. She ignored him, as she was already tired of bickering, and kept rummaging through the piles of garbage like a trash panda. 

She was surprised how easily they could go from getting along to arguing. She couldn’t even blame their outburst on fatigue, because even if she suspected that he was exhausted, she was perfectly rested. Maybe a little too rested. However, when she asked him to remove his wet clothes and put on a dry shirt she had found before he ended up catching a cold he quickly said ‘no, I’m fine’, like it was an automatic response whenever she tried to take care of him. So, of course, she snapped at him, he stubbornly defied her, she got angry, he snapped back and in less than five minutes they were at each other’s throats. Unfortunately for him, there was nowhere to storm off to, even though Cora assumed he could just move to the part of the warehouse furthest from her and avoid her until they were rescued. But in the end he reluctantly agreed to do what she said, so now he was sulking while she was too agitated to sit down and wait for help.

She didn’t find any trace of usable medical equipment, and it was getting frustrating. She knew she couldn’t leave Cassian go back to Samarkand without a first aid kit. Only gods could know in what shit the idiot would get himself into, and a medi-pack could easily make the difference between life and death. Worse case scenario, if they couldn’t find anything usable, she could give him her medikit. But that was against the rules and for good reason: if there was any sort of emergency that required her to go off world she would be useless without her kit. She could only hope they didn’t send her anywhere until he came back. And that he didn’t lose this one too. 

“Tell me,” she turned back to look at him, hands on her hips, a frown on her face, “how the fuck did you lose your medi-kit?”

Cassian seemed a little taken aback by her sudden outburst, but then looked away. “I didn’t lose it. I gave it to some people on Samarkand,” he said sheepishly. “They didn’t even have a basic first aid kit, but went to oppose the stormtroopers anyway. A little reckless.”

“Just like you,” she concluded, but her voice was a lot softer. Of course he’d think about someone else instead of worrying about himself. She hadn’t known him for a long time, but he fit the pattern: the reluctant hero type. “Don’t let Draven hear about that,” she joked, turning around to inspect the contents of another box. “I can’t imagine what he would say if he knew you wasted top military equipment on civilians,” she said, imitating Draven’s voice as best as she could. “Actually, I can imagine. It’s not pleasant.”

Cassian chuckled and got up to join her, the blanket still wrapped around his shoulders, his bare feet on the floor making him even more silent than usual. 

“Can I trust you not to tell?” he asked, a tiny smile visible on his face and Cora was glad the tension was gone. 

“For the right price…” she offered, winking at him. 

“I’m not sure you picked the right person to try and extort money from,” he laughed. 

“Better than nothing I guess,” she said, opening another box and examining its contents with the flashlight. “Oooh! Look what I found!” She started pulling onto something but it kept escaping her grip. She eventually managed to pull it free from the mess inside the box, nearly hitting herself in the face in the process, but she emerged victorious with a ball in her hand. “I haven’t seen one in ages,” she said, twisting it between her fingers. “We used to love these when we were kids. Did you have one when you were little?” she asked, throwing the ball to Cassian. 

He caught it and curiously looked at the ball. It was dark in colour, about the size of a small melon and it was covered in dents and ridges that created an intricate design on its surface. “A ball?” he asked, but Cora vigorously shook her head.

“It’s not just a ball.”

“What is it then?”

“You’ve seriously never seen one? Where did you spend your childhood, in a cave?” she said, before realizing just how insensitive she had been. “I’m so sorry, it was…”

“It’s ok,” he stopped her before she entered rant mode. “Yes, I’ve actually spent a part of my childhood in cave.”

“Really?” she raised an eyebrow at him. 

“About three weeks. I was hiding. What’s so special about this ball?”

“Oh, it was a sort of novelty toy that was very popular during that time,” she said, pressing onto some ridges and twisting the ball. “Everyone wanted one. I had one too until I threw it at the first officer’s head when he told me it’s just a toy and I shouldn’t be taking it too seriously. My parents took it away after that, but even later, in boarding school, the girls kept sneaking them in somehow. We had a lot of fun with them. Aha! I got it,” she said, twisting the ball one last time. Its surface started to glow a light blue, the light following the twists and turns of the designs drawn on it. “It’s a magic ball,” she explained. “You toss it in the air and it shares its wisdom with you. We used to believe it was real, telling us the future, answering our questions.” 

She tossed the ball to Cassian who once again caught it and eyed it suspiciously. _“Nothing worth having comes easy,”_ said the ball in a deep, mysterious voice, and Cassian snickered. 

“Right.” 

“Oh, come on. No one likes a skeptic, Captain,” Cora joked. “You have to ask a question first. You must focus on what you want answered otherwise it doesn’t work. If you let your mind wander, you won’t get a clear answer. Visualize the question clearly in your head,” she explained, “and throw the ball.”

He didn’t seem convinced by her explanation, but her enthusiasm must have been transmissible, because in the end he started smiling. “What the hell,” he said, throwing the ball in the air.

“No! You must think of the question first,” Cora lamented, but the ball fell into Cassian’s hands. 

_“Every moment matters,”_ it said.

“What am I supposed to understand from that?”

“I don’t know, it’s always vague and it needs a little interpretation. What were you thinking about when you threw it?” Cassian simply shrugged so Cora shook her head. “You’re impossible to work with. Try again, this time ask the question out loud.”

“What should I ask?” He looked so lost Cora couldn’t help but burst into laughter.

“I don’t know, Captain, use your legendary wits. Ask something you’ve always wanted answered.”

He looked at her for a few moments, and Cora was once again mesmerized by how beautiful he was, even in his damp state, with his hair sticking in all directions, even in the dim light thrown by an emergency lamp. 

“Ok,” he finally made up his mind, “when will we defeat the Empire?” he asked and threw the ball high up in the air. _“Storms don’t last forever,”_ it answered, once it was back in Cassian’s hands. “It makes no sense.”

“Mm… tell that to the storm outside, Magic Ball,” Cora laughed. 

“It’s stupid.”

“You’re just not opening your mind right,” she scolded. “Here, let me try.” She took the ball from his hands and focused. “Tell me my future,” she said, throwing the ball in the air.

But she let her mind wander. She thought of Cassian and their time together on Samarkand, she thought of him going back into battle, she wondered if there was anything between them more than a passing attraction and if so, what would they do about it. When the ball returned to her hands, she knew the answer wouldn’t be accurate. _“Time is running out,”_ said the ball, and Cora’s blood froze. 

“You’re right, it’s stupid,” she finally said, turning it off and throwing it aside, but even if she couldn’t see herself, she knew the colour had drained from her face. The worry on Cassian’s face meant he noticed it too.

“Hey,” he said, putting a hand on her shoulder. “It’s just a game.”

“Yeah I know.” She brushed the hand off her shoulder and started picking up some of the things she had randomly thrown at her feet and put them back in a box. “It just says random things. If you use it long enough you will see that it starts repeating itself,” she said, trying to give him a reassuring smile, but she was certain that it looked fake. 

Cassian didn’t press and she was thankful that he seemed to always know when not to insist. She knew her sudden change of mood was stupid and that no toy should even be taken seriously, but she just couldn’t convince her mind to get over the sense of dread that was engulfing her. It wasn’t something new, she’d felt it before, but it was less acute and she blamed it on the weather. But a dose of anxiety was ever present lately. Like everything in her life was going too well and something bad was going to happen soon. The anticipation kept her on the edge, and a simple phrase uttered by a talking toy managed to blow everything out of proportion. 

“Yeah, I’m gonna walk around a bit, maybe I can find something…” She knew it wasn’t a believable excuse, but she needed a few minutes to try and get her thoughts in order. 

Cassian nodded and sat back on a crate, pulling the blanket tighter around him. It seemed that the exhaustion was finally getting to him. Cora wished she had some tea on hand, a hot beverage would have helped. “Just don’t get lost,” he said, and even his voice seemed tired. 

“If I do, I’ll yell and you’ll come to my rescue.”

“For the right price…”

“Haha.”

She turned on her flashlight and left their little oasis of light. She didn’t look for anything in particular, just walked around aimlessly, poking her nose into a container or another, finding nothing of interest. 

Time is running out, said her mind, but she didn’t know whose time was running out. Was it hers, Cassian’s, or did it just mean that things were about to change? Whatever it was, it wasn’t good. She was a little paranoid, she had to admit, but she was right to be scared. She ignored it until now, but the war was raging on, and it was becoming more brutal than ever. She had wanted to escape it all, but somehow managed to end up right in the middle of it. If the Rebellion was defeated, she’d fall with it.

She wondered if her father was looking for her. She was sure the Imperial forces were at least aware that she had deserted and were idly looking for her, but she didn’t think her father would put any extra effort into finding his daughter. After all, he was a busy man and Cora didn’t know if the wish to see her on the chopping block was enough incentive to make him neglect his work. Because she was sure that’s where she’d end up if she were to be caught. She didn’t know if she’d have a trial, but she assumed she would, just so that they could make an example out of her, and then a very public execution. Probably preceded by a long torture session. 

That made the hair stand on the back of her neck. She was afraid of the future. It still seemed like she didn’t have any. She swapped an army for another, but beyond that, she had nothing. What would happen to her if the war ended? Where would she go? She’d have to start all over again in another place, all alone, in a world she wasn’t prepared for. And it felt like the relative peace and balance in her life was going to come to an end soon enough.

It took her a while to calm down, and in the meantime she didn’t find anything useful, so she came back with just a blanket and a few cups of instant soup. She was expecting to find Cassian still wrapped in the blanket and fast asleep, but he seemed to have been pretty active in her absence. He had put the lamp on the floor and was examining what seemed to be an older version of a medi-kit. 

Cora stopped for a second and just looked at him. He had gotten out of the blanket and was now sitting at the edge of the crate, meticulously inspecting the kit. To someone else he may have looked a little funny, with the shirt that was way too big for him and hanged comically on his slender frame and his hair that had dried and was now a hot mess, barefoot on the stone floor, focusing so hard on what he was doing that he had a frown on his face, but to Cora, this image filled her with a warm feeling. She realized that it was something she would like coming home to after a long shift. She would love to come home to Cassian one day, even though she wasn’t sure she would ever have a home she would call her own. Still it would be nice if he was the one waiting for her. 

But they weren’t there yet, and she didn’t know if they would ever be _there_. Right now they were just two people who at some point had sex, but there was no guarantee that there would ever be something more. Yes, Cassian wasn’t avoiding her, but he wasn’t being overly friendly either. She wished once again that she had the courage to just talk to him about it, but she knew she was too much of a coward. Unfortunately, their time may already be running out. 

It didn’t take long for him to notice her, and when he did, the concentration on his face melted into a soft smile that made Cora’s heart flutter. 

“I see you’ve come back safely,” he said. “And you didn’t get lost.”

“I just had to follow the light back. I see you’ve found a medi-kit?” She took a seat on the crate next to him. 

“It may be useless,” he said, the frown coming back for a second. “It’s incomplete.” He looked really disappointed. 

“Let me see,” she said, taking it from his hands. Yes, it was missing a lot of things, but the most important things were still there. The consumables were easy to replace and Cora could give him some spares from her own kit to make up for the missing items. If there was anything broken she was sure it could be fixed and if not, she’d make sure to find a replacement. Overall, it wasn’t a bad find. “I can work with it,” she announced, closing the kit and putting it aside. “Our goal has been achieved. Now we only have to get out of here.” She sighed. “What’s taking them so long?”

“I don’t know,” he said, looking towards the door. There was no sound coming from the other side, maybe no one had even noticed they were missing. Or cared, for that matter. 

“Nevermind them,” she said, not allowing herself to sulk again. “I’ve found another blanket and some soup, we’re not gonna die in here.” She put the blanket over her own shoulders and handed Cassian a plastic cup. “Nothing better than hot soup to boost morale in this cold and gloomy environment,” she said, twisting the cap and waiting for it to warm up its contents. 

Cassian did the same, shifting a little to lean on one of the containers behind them. The silence was comfortable as they both sipped the hot liquid, letting it warm them up from the inside, completely lost in their own thoughts. Cora realized that this was the calmest she’d been since she got back from Samarkand. There was no emergency, no sense of urgency, no one to worry about on the short term. With Cassian safely back she allowed herself to relax. The sense of dread that nearly consumed her a little while back was once again just an easy to ignore humming in her head. 

When she looked over to Cassian she noticed he had fallen asleep, the empty cup still in his hand. Cora smiled. He looked so sweet and so innocent when he was asleep, with his head hanging to the side and his lips slightly parted, his breathing deep and even, that Cora could barely fight back the urge to just cuddle into his side and nap. Instead, she took the cup from his fingers and fixed the blanket around him, careful not to disturb him. 

She woke up when the lights came back on, a bright and annoying red that signaled that the main generator was still not working and this was just emergency power. Cassian was already up, tying his shoelaces when her eyes adjusted to the weird light surrounding them. 

“Good morning,” he said, smiling at her. “The power’s back on.”

“Morning?! What year is it?” she croaked, her voice raspy from sleep, generally feeling like she’d been run over by a cargo crawler. “How long have we been asleep?”

“Maybe a half an hour?”

Cora’s body was numb and aching at the same time from sleeping in an odd position so she took her time getting up. In the meantime, Cassian had changed back into his own clothes, grabbed the medi-kit and was ready to go. “So it seems that our adventure in the dark and gloomy C3 Storage Warehouse may be coming to an end,” she said, finishing the sentence with a yawn.

“So it does,” he said, and Cora thought he sounded a little melancholic. 

“It’s about time because I really need to pee,” she said, and Cassian started laughing.

“I bet you can find a corner…” he said, still laughing and Cora felt better now the melancholy from his voice was gone. His laughter was a nice change from his usually serious-borderline-grumpy self.

“I’m not gonna be known as the one who peed in storage, Cassian. Now take us out of here,” she said, grabbing the heavily ornate cushion, the magic ball and the rest of the instant soup cups she had found. 

“Are you taking that with you?” he gestured to the ball as they headed for the door. 

“Yes,” she said, grinning mischievously. “It will prove itself useful.”

“For what?” he asked, trying to open the door.

“Stress relief. I can throw it at Draven’s head whenever I feel stressed,” she joked, and was pleasantly surprised to hear a chuckle coming from Cassian. If only the General knew that his obedient soldier laughed at her shitty jokes...

“I have bad news for you, though. We are still locked inside.”

“Don’t bullshit me, Cassian. We have the key.”

“Yes, but the power outage seems to have confused the lock and it’s stuck on ‘closed’. It probably needs a master key or a complete reset to get it to work properly again.”

“We are going to die in here!” Cora lamented. “I never thought that a warehouse in a Rebellion base would be my final resting place…”

Cassian chuckled. “We’re not gonna die in here,” he said and took a security kit out of his boot. It took him less than two minutes get the door to open. Cora had to admit that it was pretty impressive.

“Show off,” she said when the dreaded door finally opened, setting them free. “Hopefully the elevators work.” She realized, her heart skipping a beat, that they may have escaped the warehouse just to be trapped in the underground level. At least her room was nearby. The shower would probably work even with emergency power and her bed was big enough to host both Cassian and her for the night… Actually, that didn’t sound so bad. 

“There is an emergency staircase in case they don’t work,” he said, completely shattering Cora’s hopes for the night. 

“And why didn’t anyone tell me? You know, since I live here.” She tried masking her disappointment with mild annoyance, but Cassian didn’t seem to notice. He shrugged and walked on. 

Fortunately, the elevators worked. Unfortunately, nothing had prepared Cora for the chaos that awaited them once they reached ground level. The lightning that has struck the main generator caused an explosion that injured a half a dozen people and trashed a lot of precious equipment. The whole base was now in turmoil, with people frantically running around, so they didn't even get to say goodbye as they both rushed to help. 

It seemed that, at least for today, their time together had ran out.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter and the one coming after it were supposed to be just one, but for reasons unknown, what was supposed to be just the first part of a chapter ended up being pretty long. So I will be posting them separately. The next part isn't yet finished, so it may take a while. (A long while.)
> 
> Anyway, thank you all for reading and for still being enthusiastic about this story. It's lovely seeing new people reading this story for the first time and older readers coming back and sharing their enthusiasm with me. Love you all, you keep me going.
> 
> Special thanks to Llexeh, my fanfiction soulmate, and to Mesh, the one who can listen to me complain 24/7 without wanting to kill me.

The storm gradually dropped in intensity and the weather went back to the ever present fog and drizzle. It was a nice change, Cora thought as she looked out the med bay window. It was almost peaceful. After the incident with the main generator they didn’t have much time to waste, with people working around the clock to fix the affected systems and the med bays busy caring for the wounded. As the storm died down, they started cleaning the debris on the landing strip and now she could once again see ships leaving the hangar. It seemed that everything was going back to normal. 

But Cora wasn’t calm at all. In fact she was stressed as fuck. She had been informed a couple of days before that the council would be evaluating her time in the Alliance, and based on the result of that assessment, they would decide if they’d take off her bracelets, setting her free. They would finally be deciding if she was one of them or not. And today was the day when it would all be announced. 

And Cora hated it. She hated being reminded that she was different from everyone else. Most of the time she didn’t even remember she had the bracelets on, since she never left the base anyway, but it was a thing of principle: as long as she had them on she was still a prisoner that had agreed to help in the med bay in exchange for limited freedom, and not a full member of the Alliance. She hated that they still didn’t trust her. She was doing her job as well as she could, she always did what they asked of her, and she had risked her life on two missions now, so it hurt being reminded that she didn’t belong. 

And today she would have to stand in front of the council and see the disdain in their eyes as they decided her fate. A bunch of bureaucrats with sticks up their asses, who never once made any effort to get to know her and see where her loyalties lie, would stand in a circle and dissect her life and speak about her in absolutes. She felt like she wanted to choke every one of them.

But she had to admit that she carried some of the blame too: she always thought of the Rebellion as them instead of us. She guessed this stemmed from her time in the Empire where for years she tried mentally distancing herself from what was going on around her. You can’t be blamed for their actions if you’re not part of them, her brain seemed to tell her. But one of the side-effects from thinking like this was that now she felt like she didn’t fit in anywhere, or at least, that is was safer not to belong.

Still, she was a part of the med bay staff and she was loyal to them. The Rebellion in general may not have been her top priority, but she cared about her friends and if the cause was important to them, it would be important to her as well. And she knew that in this case they would take her side, even if she was pretty sure no one would ask them.

She also knew that Doctor Crane would speak in her favour, no doubt about that, and his voice actually mattered. Maybe Mon Mothma would be on her side. On the few occasions they met she had been friendly, but Cora could never tell what the woman was thinking. Still, she hoped she and Bail Organa would be her allies, since they both seemed rather reasonable, and Cora never felt any sort of animosity from him. She figured Cassian would be on her side as well, but since he wasn’t part of the council, she didn’t know how much his opinions mattered. 

It was funny how much things had changed between them. A few months back she considered him to be her number one enemy, but right now he was… well, something else. She wondered if they’d value his opinion less in this case if the council knew, especially Draven, that they had been a little more than friendly on certain occasions. 

She knew it didn’t matter that much, even though she sometimes hoped it did. Cassian seemed like the kind of person that wasn’t that easy to influence, whether you were trying to threaten him or butter him up. Besides, she wasn’t the first one he fucked, and she won’t be the last. Something as trivial as this would never change his opinion on someone, and they probably knew that. 

“Cora!”

She jumped, nearly dropping her coffee cup on the floor when she felt a hand on her shoulder. “Cassian, scare me like that again and I’m locking you up in the recovery ward for a month,” she threatened, unceremoniously shoving his hand off her shoulder. 

“I tried knocking and calling your name a couple of times, but you didn’t answer,” he said, and Cora instantly regretted yelling at him. 

“I’m sorry,” she apologized, looking down, embarrassed by her moodiness. “I was just a little distracted. Shouldn’t have snapped at you.”

“You’re becoming mellow, Doctor. I remembered you being a lot more feisty,” he joked, and Cora felt once again the urge to punch him.

“Don’t tempt me, Andor…” she warned, pursing her lips.

“I’d love to do just that, but we have to go,” he said, the whole playful atmosphere dissolving into thin air. Anxiety took hold of Cora once again, a cold shiver starting to climb up her spine. “The council has already gathered in the War Room.”

“Did they send you to fetch me?” she asked, wondering why they didn’t just send one of the guards like they usually did when there was any administrative meeting taking place. Maybe he volunteered.

“Sort of,” he said, and it made Cora think that she had guessed right. She smiled, despite the nervousness. They didn’t let him leave the base after he recklessly landed in the middle of the storm, so Cora had gotten quite used to seeing him around in the past few days. 

There was a small change in the way he behaved, she noticed. He was a little more friendly towards her, a little more open. He would sometimes stop and ask how her day was going if they bumped into each other on the corridors and they weren’t in a rush. It was never more than a few words, and it was a lot less than the usual interactions between Cora and most of her friends and acquaintances, but it was a pleasant change from just ‘hello’ and nothing more. It made her think that she now belonged to the select few people that he had more than just a professional work relationship with. And that made her happy. 

“You look a little pale,” he said once they left the med bay. The corridors weren’t as crowded as they normally were, and Cora assumed everyone was busy in the hangar below. 

“I’m a little stressed,” she admitted. There was no point in lying just so she would seem cooler, because she was sure Cassian never once considered her to be cool. So she chose to be honest about her turmoil. 

“There’s nothing to be worried about,” he told her in a reassuring tone, but it did nothing to calm her nerves.

“I know,” she replied, making an effort to stop her hands from nervously playing with the hem of her tunic. “The logical part of my brain knows that, but for some reason, the other part of it has decided to panic. And guess which one is winning,” she whined, her heart beating faster than it was comfortable. 

Cassian chuckled and they entered the elevator. As soon as the doors closed after them, her anxiety reached peak point and her breath started to hitch. Luckily, they were alone so no one saw the colour drain from her face as the cold feeling in the pit of her stomach started to grow and take over her body. Her vision turned blurry and she had to stumble forward and hold onto the elevator door for support, fighting a wave of nausea. 

At first, she didn’t notice the elevator stopping, just Cassian’s arm over her stomach stopping her from collapsing on the floor. He pulled her close to his chest, letting her rest her weight on him. Cora tried calming down, telling herself that she wasn’t going to have a full blown panic attack right then. Slowly, but steadily, she managed to get her breathing under control and her vision became focused once again. The elevator doors didn’t open so she figured Cassian had stopped it between levels giving her a little time to regain her composure. She felt thankful for that.

“Everything’s gonna be fine,” he cooed in her ear, his facial hair lightly grazing over her skin. “Nothing bad can happen, you’re not going back to the cell. Worst case scenario, they’ll leave the bracelets on and your life will continue like nothing had happened.”

“I know. I just don’t wanna be there,” she said, her voice faltering, but feeling a little better in Cassian’s comforting embrace. “I don’t care what they decide, just do it and send it to me in an envelope. I’m tired of people questioning my intentions and judging me for who I am. They’ve done it enough. I know they don’t trust me and I don’t care, just leave me alone. I’m tired of interrogations.” She sighed and looked at the floor. “I’m tired.”

“They’re not going to interrogate you,” he tried reassuring her but he sounded a little doubtful and Cora could feel it. “It’s probably already decided. There’s not going to be any questioning.” She placed her hand over his and intertwined their fingers. He had lied when he said that his hands were always cold, because right now she could feel his warmth in the palm of her hand. 

“Then they should just leave me alone,” she said and turned her head a little to take a better look at Cassian. This was the closest they’d been since their time on his ship, if she didn’t count the time when she got scared in the warehouse and latched onto him, so Cora allowed herself to just melt into his frame. She should be ashamed for having a meltdown in front of him, she thought, but right now she didn’t care. She could force herself to be strong, brush him off, but truth be told, she needed the emotional support. She’d been alone for so long and lately she felt lonelier than ever. And if this stolen embrace in an empty elevator made her feel better she didn’t care if she appeared weak or needy in his eyes. So she leaned her forehead on his cheek, taking in the familiar feeling of his stubble scratching her skin. After all, he’d seen worse meltdowns from her and didn’t run away screaming. “Can’t we just… not go?” she pleaded.

“I’m afraid not,” he said, and seemed genuinely sorry. Cora knew this would be the answer, but she had to try. There was a tiny part of her that hoped Cassian would save her, the same part that had trusted Cassian so long ago to take her away from the Empire. “But I will be there with you and if you want to leave, just give me a sign and I will take you out.”

“Thanks,” she said with a smile, and wondered if he’d actually do it. It would be so funny seeing him tell them to fuck off and just grab her hand and run. Unrealistic, but funny and for a moment she wished he’d really do it. It would make her feel like she was just as important to him as he was to her. 

Cora knew that time was ticking and even though she would have loved to just stay frozen in that moment, they’d eventually have to get going. She shifted a little in his embrace and felt his grip on her loosening. Still, she didn’t let go of his hand, and he didn’t seem to want to wiggle free either. She inched closer to him, letting her lips brush over his jaw, a ghost light touch that held in itself all of her longing. She felt him shiver and move to meet her lips, his breath warm on her skin, his scent subtle and familiar and so intoxicating. But then he changed his mind, and placed a kiss on her temple, right above her eyebrow. 

Cora smiled, as his lips lingered on her skin a little too long. She let go of his hand and pressed a button putting the elevator in motion once again. “We should get going,” she said, breaking the spell. 

Cassian let go of her and straightened his posture, becoming Captain Andor once again. Cora passed a hand over her tunic, straightening the fabric, still feeling a tingling sensation in the place where his arm used to hold her. She wondered, as the elevator came to a halt, if rejection would always taste this bitter. 

A quick peck on the tip of her ear, right before the doors opened, was something she would have never expected from Cassian, not in a million years. She covered her ear with her hand, throwing him a bewildered look. How? And why? He looked pretty relaxed, save for the tiniest, smuggest, grin in the corner of his mouth and Cora felt she urge to elbow him in the ribs. Luckily for him, the doors opened and they were once again in public, so Cora made an effort to control herself.

“I see the colour has come back to your face, Doctor,” he said matter of factly, referring to the blush that had crept over her cheeks. She realized that he was just teasing her. The peck on her ear, the tense moment in the elevator, maybe she was reading a bit too much into his actions. He was just a boy, after all. 

“I have to let you know, Captain, that I have a scalpel in my pocket and I’m not afraid to use it.”

His face broke into a smile for just a fraction of a second, before going back to his normal, serious look. “I wouldn’t advise you to do that just before your hearing,” he said in a very professional tone. 

“If they know you half as well as I do, I think they’d be grateful. I may even get a medal.”

He smiled. “They don’t know me as well as you do,” he assured her in a very neutral tone, but the playful glint in his eyes made her think she knew exactly what he was referring to. 

“Oh, I really hope they don’t, because otherwise I’d really have to question your taste in men…”

He smiled for a brief second, then his poker face was back on, like nothing had happened. Like he didn’t comfort and tease her in the elevator, like he didn’t break her heart and give her hope once again, all in the span of five minutes.

The War Room was just as she remembered it: full of people and holograms of maps and diagrams she didn’t understand. It was where they held the council meetings and the strategy planning and whatever the Rebellion did and she wasn’t allowed to know. They still treated her as a potential spy, so she had no idea what the Rebellion did to fight the Empire. But it didn’t bother her, after all she was used to being a simple pawn in a game of chess she didn’t understand nor cared about. She had always done her job quietly, letting others to decide the direction in which things advanced. And she liked it that way. You’d think that the daughter of an Admiral would have bigger political ambitions, but to Cora being self sufficient was enough.

She took a seat at a table in the middle of the room, exactly under the spotlight. The council was gathered around her, some seated, some standing, she noticed. The setting was familiar, she had been brought in front of them when they asked her to work in the med bay. A lot of things had changed since then, but Cora was still quite apprehensive. 

“Good morning, Doctor,” Senator Bail Organa greeted her, his smiling face one of the few friendly ones in a sea of frowns. This didn’t look too good for Cora.

“Good morning,” she replied, flashing the most sincere smile she was capable of. The nervousness was back, but thanks to Cassian she wasn’t on the brink of a panic attack anymore. 

She scanned the room before the inevitable questioning. There were some friendly faces, she noticed once again: Bail Organa, Doctor Crane, even Mon Mothma had a reserved smile on her face. General Draven on the other hand had a frown so deep Cora thought it could very well rival the deepest canyon. Most of the other members of the council didn’t seem so outwardly hostile and showed a little more restraint. But that didn’t make her feel any better; for all she knew, they could still be against her.

“I see you’ve gotten accustomed to our med bay quite easily,” the senator said, coming closer to where she was seated. “I am pleased to tell you that your reviews have been very good, both from your fellow colleagues and from your patients.”

Cora imagined them handing out surveys to everyone on base: ‘How would you rate Doctor Enoch’s performance, on a scale from 1 to 5.’ She was pretty sure she’d get a 2 from Cassian, if they caught him in a particularly good mood. But no matter how funny it seemed to her, it meant that they were keeping a close eye on her. 

“Thank you Sir, I’m doing my best,” she replied almost automatically. So many years in the army left her with some automatisms. 

He seemed a little amused by her rigid reply. “You’ve also taken over some administrative tasks, I am told.” Cora nodded. “And you’ve been on two off-world missions already,” he said, almost nonchalantly, but Cora could see him examining her attentively. “Tell me, Cora - I can call you Cora, can’t I - how have you adjusted to living on our base? Have you made any friends?”

Cora smiled. She was sure they already knew who she had made friends with, exactly when she met them and where and what they did when they hung out, so she wondered what the point was. Were they just making small talk or did they want to see if she was being honest? Either way her first reaction was to tell them to cut the crap and just get to the point because she didn’t have all day, but she realized that this wasn’t the most tactful thing to do. She was at their mercy after all, and if this was the game they wanted to play, she had to play along. 

“Yes,” she said, returning his smile. “I’ve made a few friends. Mainly among my colleagues, but I know a lot of people on base. As for living on Yavin, I think the climate’s the hardest to get used to,” she said, and heard a few murmurs of approval in the room. 

“You’ve also experienced your first storm…” 

Cassian flashed through her mind the moment he mentioned the storm, their time alone in the storage warehouse still fresh in her memory. She did her best to only search for him in the crowd with the corner of her eye, as to not attract too much attention. He was standing on the far side, partially obscured by some of the equipment in the room, and watched quietly. 

“Not a great experience, but I like to think I can survive worse.”

“Speaking of surviving, you’ve crossed paths with a pirate ship and an imperial invasion and lived to tell the tale.”

“I think my partners should be thanked for that, since without them I’d certainly be dead,” she admitted. 

“The Rebellion is all about teamwork,” he said, “no one expects you to fight on your own.” 

Until they do, Cora thought, but she didn’t say anything. In the imperial army you were just one of the many soldiers, no names just identification numbers, but the Alliance was way smaller. From what she’d seen, everyone was doing much more than what they were supposed to do, so she assumed that one day someone would put a blaster in her hand and tell her to go fight the Empire alone. It seemed, to her at least, that that was what they constantly did to Cassian.

“But you did well in those two missions,” he continued. “And that certainly means a lot to us. But, to be frank with you,” (here we go, she thought), “some members of the council are still have some doubts regarding your loyalty.”

“Well then, let me be frank too, Senator,” she said, feeling a tinge of annoyance even though she had been expecting it. “There will always be some people that will question my loyalty, and this has nothing to do with what I do, and everything to do with who I am. I am the daughter of Admiral Enoch, and this outweighs anything I might do, in the eyes of some.” She looked around the room, making sure to linger a little on Draven’s unpleasant expression. “I have a cleaner record than a lot of people on base, and I’m still judged more harshly than any of them.”

“They’ve proven their loyalty to the cause,” Draven muttered, his tone just as unpleasant as his face.

“And I haven’t? I nearly died on two off-world missions. That wasn’t part of the deal I made with you.”

“That was yo…”

“That was my fault how exactly, General?” she raised her tone, feeling increasingly annoyed. “Listen... You’ve already jailed me for who I am, and I’m not going to linger in the past, what’s done is done and can’t be changed. I’m just asking you all to judge me for my actions, just like you do with everyone else, and not by my heritage. Because you can’t chose your parents, but you can chose the path you walk.”

It was silent for a moment, but Cora could see Draven getting ready to throw some more shit at her. After all, he had just started, and he was always pretty vocal during her past interrogations, seeming to take pleasure in accusing her of more than she could have physically done in one lifetime. However, a sharp look from Bail Organa silenced him for the time being.

“And what is your path, Doctor?” Mon Mothma asked.

Cora took a deep breath. If she knew that her freedom would one day depend on her ability to convince a room full of constipated senators, she would have paid a lot more attention in rhetorics class.

“As Senator Organa once said, the only way for me to live a peaceful life is if the Empire is no more,” she said, trying to sound as sincere and as convincing as she could. “I am a traitor to the Empire. I have nowhere to go back to, so I can only move forward. Right now, the Rebellions seems like the only solution for me. And I know I may sound a little selfish when I say that, since I should be thinking about the greater good and saving the Galaxy, but I am a simple person, I’m not a hero who’s going to sacrifice their life for total strangers. But if this is going to bring peace for me and my friends I will gladly follow.”

“Would you sacrifice your life for the friends you’ve made among us?” Senator Organa asked.

Cora never thought about that. Not that she didn’t know in the back of her mind that it was a possibility, she often had nightmares in which everyone she knew died and she was helpless, but she never thought that one day their life may depend on her. Since they were a million times more prepared for war than she was, she always assumed that if they would ever be in mortal peril she’d already be dead. That one day their life would depend on whether she’d act or not was a new and scary thought. Her first reaction was ‘I’m not qualified to handle this’.

“I’d rather not have to sacrifice my life in any circumstance,” she replied honestly, her eyes involuntarily drifting towards Cassian, “but if it were for my friends’ sake, I’d like to think I would be able to do it.”

“So what you’re saying,” Draven opened his mouth and Cora was already expecting the worst, “is that we can only count on your loyalty if your friends are in the game. I’m afraid this fight isn’t just about you and your friends and if we can’t count on you regardless of this, then there is no point in placing any trust in you.”

“General, I think you are misinterpreting my words,” Cora said through gritted teeth, trying very hard to control herself and not tell him to go back where he came from. “Would you have liked my speech better if I fed you pompous lines without substance about the greater good and the sake of humanity as an abstract notion? I am sorry that you think that because I have a more personal approach to this, just like, let’s say, 90% of the people on base, that I am less trustworthy. Almost all of them joined for their own sake or for that of their loved ones, so did you ever question their motives and resolve?”

“They’ve all sacrificed something to get here.”

“I’ve sacrificed everything I had. I had a safe, comfortable life and now I have nothing. Nothing!” she almost yelled, her voice reverberating in the silent room. “It would have been so easy to hand Cassian over to the stormtroopers and earn a shiny medal for it. But I didn’t do it. And honestly, the way you repaid me for it made me wonder if I had made the right choice.” She took a moment to regain her composure. “But you know what? I’d do it again. If I had the choice, I’d do it again. Because I know I don’t belong in the Empire. And if you think I don’t belong here either, then you may be right. I’m certainly not the greatest soldier and I’m not as valuable to the Cause as most people here, but I do my job and I would never betray the Alliance.”

“You betrayed the Empire, why wouldn't you betray the Alliance just as easily?” asked a tall, slender man with a foreign accent. 

“Because the Empire has hurt me. It’s a personal vendetta. To see it fall would make me happy. The Rebellion hasn’t hurt me like that yet,” she said, subtly emphasizing the word ‘yet’, keeping her gaze fixed on the tall man. He seemed a little uncomfortable, so she stared at him some more.

Senator Organa cleared his throat, interrupting her staring contest and shifting the focus of the room towards himself once again. “During the past couple of days there have been a few debates on whether or not to remove your bracelets,” he said. “In the meantime we’ve assessed your progress, gotten statements from the people that have interacted most with you. We’ve gotten a pretty good idea of who you are.”

It sounded like a thinly veiled threat. Cora knew she had done nothing wrong, but still she felt like they had found out all of her deepest, darkest secrets. It made her feel like maybe she was guilty of something, she just didn’t know it yet. Maybe they knew she had stolen the cushion.

“We’ve held a vote,” he continued, “and eventually made a decision.” 

So Cassian had been right, it was already decided. Then why did they summon her here? What was the point of the whole questioning? They could have just told her the result of the vote and let her go back to work instead of putting her under the spotlight. She speculated that they either did it just for show or the vote had been a tie and they needed something more to help them deliberate, but she wouldn't know for sure unless they told her. Nonetheless, she still felt irritated that they had dragged her there. 

Mon Mothma left her place at the edge of the crowd and approached her, as elegant and poised as always. Cora couldn’t help but admire her: she was exactly what the years in boarding school could never mould her into. Beautiful, classy and scary. 

“The council has decided to remove your bracelets,” she said, without further ado. “But there are some conditions.” Of course there would be some conditions, Cora never assumed they’d just set her free and wave her goodbye, so she nodded and motioned for her to continue. “You will be fitted a tracker bracelet instead of your cuffs. It doesn’t actively track your whereabouts, but in case you disappear or leave the base without notice it will send us your coordinates.”

“Right… so I’m still a prisoner,” Cora said, crossing her arms and leaning back into the chair, a defiant expression on her face.

“It’s just a precaution, Cora. And it’s a temporary measure,” Bail Organa assured her, but Cora frowned anyway. 

“Until when? Since I’ve given you no reason to suspect me, and you still don’t trust me, how can I believe when you tell me that it’s just temporary?” she raised her voice again, almost getting up the chair. 

“You have to understand, Doctor Enoch,” one of the older councilmen said, “that the Alliance is a fragile thing. We can’t afford to take any risks right now.”

“Right,” Cora muttered, collapsing back into her chair. She really wanted to tell them she isn’t a time bomb that they have to keep a close eye on, but she held her mouth shut and asked Mon Mothma to continue.

“You will have to get permission and be accompanied by an officer if you ever want to leave the base.”

“What if I just want to leave?” Cora asked, her face devoid of any emotion. She wondered if they’d change their mind if she kept interrupting them. Draven was already starting to change colour. 

“I am sorry, that’s not an option right now.”

“I see,” Cora hissed. “Is there anything else?”

“You still won’t be allowed to access the databases or shove your nose into any Rebellion business,” Draven intervened, his interruption just as pleasant and needed as a bunch of warts. “Or contact anyone outside the base.”

Cora suddenly felt the urge to send the Emperor a birthday card, just to spite the general. However, she smiled, and looked again at Mon Mothma who had resumed explaining the conditions to her. It wasn’t that bad, she kept repeating herself as every condition made the frown on her forehead grow a little deeper. Remember where you started from and where you are now, huge difference. But every condition, every restriction they imposed cemented the idea that they didn’t want her there, that she didn’t belong.

“Do you agree to respect these conditions?” Mon Mothma finally asked. Cora was already spacing out and this suddenly brought her back. 

“Do I have a choice?” she asked, with a half smile.

“There is always a choice, Cora,” said Senator Organa, a friendly smile on his face.

“Well, not much of a choice when you have to chose between a leash and a cage,” she snorted. “But I accept,” she said. “Gimme the leash, take me for a walk. Do I have to sign anything?”

“No,” said Mon Mothma, seemingly a little displeased by her attitude, “your word in front of the council will be enough.”

“I would like to hereby thank the high council for their generosity,” she said, in a slightly mocking tone, just enough to raise some eyebrows, but not enough to be outright rude. “Thank you so much.”

The meeting ended and everyone scrambled to get out of the room as fast as possible. How rude, she thought, when none of them stayed back to congratulate her, except for Doctor Crane, who also told her that her mouth would get her in trouble one day. Where’s the news, Doc?

Mon Mothma and Bail Organa stayed back too and explained to her a few more details. Cora was a lot less rude towards them now that they didn’t have an audience anymore. She didn’t dislike these people, she just disliked the situation she had been put in, so now that the whole debacle had ended and she had calmed down a little, she went back to being as nice as she could be. 

Before she left, she noticed that Cassian had also stayed behind, talking to Draven in a corner. She wondered if they were talking about her; after all, she had been the main event of the day. From the frowns on both of their faces, she could very well be right. 

She decided against hurrying back to the med bay, instead she walked as slowly as possible, hoping to see Cassian maybe even for a minute after he got rid of Draven. However, her plan was foiled when an overly enthusiastic Lewella emerged from the crowd, holding two shaved ice cones.

“How’d it go?” she asked, showing one cone in Cora’s hand.

“Ok I guess. They’ll swap the cuffs for a tracker bracelet,” she said, her tone showing her disappointment.

“That’s not so bad,” Lewella tried encouraging her. “I have one too.” She lifted her sleeve to show her. 

“Why?”

“Because I once got so drunk I woke up on another planet. They decided they wouldn’t risk losing me once again. And honestly it saved my life twice since then, once when our ship got hijacked and once when we lost control during a storm. It’s not so bad. Eat your ice, it’s getting messy.”

Cora took a tentative bite and was taken aback by the pungent taste. “Is this…”

“Corellian Brandy, yeah!” Lewella seemed very proud of it, but Cora just raised an eyebrow. She should have expected it to be something more than just plain, flavoured ice if it came from Lewella’s hands. It could have been worse, she thought as she took another bite. 

“It’s just that...” Cora’s voice faltered and she looked at her feet. “I guessed they’d trust me more after all this time.”

“Baby steps, Cora. You know how slow these sorts of institutions work and how slow they can be at times. If it were only Mothma’s decision, you would have been free a long time ago,” Lewella said, patting her shoulder. “It’s progress. Remember how far you’ve come. Now you’re here, you’re alive and well, so you can wait.”

“Yeah, I guess,” Cora said, absentmindedly.

“When are they taking them off?”

“My shift ends in a few hours, I have to look for Draven then and he’ll take care of them.” Having to meet Draven and interact with him twice in one day was annoying to say the least. 

“Awesome! We’ll meet tonight for some celebratory drinks in the dungeons. A ‘getting a little more out of jail’ party.”

Cora snorted. “Thanks, but I’d rather sleep early tonight. I’m covering Alara’s shift tomorrow.”

“Nonsense. I’ve already sent out the invitations, you’re not allowed to miss your own party.”

“You didn’t even know there was going to be something to celebrate and you already organized a party?” 

“It could have been just one of two things: good news and we celebrate or bad news and you’d need to drown your sorrows, either way both involved alcohol so why not set it up in advance?”

Cora raised an eyebrow. That was some strong logic, she had to admit. 

“Stop trying to come up with excuses. You’re coming and that’s final.” Cora stubbornly shook her head.

“Coming where?” Cassian asked, suddenly appearing next to them.

“Super secret meeting in the dungeons today. We’re celebrating.”

“Ok,” he said, like it was nothing out of the ordinary.

“Are they sending you back?” Lewella asked, and Cora’s heart skipped a beat. She somehow overlooked the fact that now that the storm had ended he would probably be sent away ASAP. She realized that he would be gone once again and felt incredibly dejected.

“Yeah,” he replied, crushing any semblance of a good mood Cora might have still had left. “I’m leaving tomorrow morning.”

“Oh, good,” Lewella said, and Cora wanted to say that there’s nothing good about it. “It would have been shit if you had to leave today and miss the party. Now you can convince Cora to come too, since she’s decided to be stubborn and skip her own celebration.”

Cassian threw her a disbelieving look and Cora defensively crossed her arms. “Don’t you want to celebrate your victory?” he asked, quirking an eyebrow. 

“Not much of a victory,” Cora mumbled, but she felt her resolve weakening. Now that she knew he was going to leave in the morning she really wanted to spend a little more time with him, even if that meant going to a party and having to be sociable instead of sleeping. 

“You may not see it like that, but I know these people, you won this battle. And you were great in there,” he said, and Cora really wanted to believe him, but she knew that she didn’t handle the situation very well. She had lost her temper and yelled at people, and if it weren’t already decided she was pretty sure she could have never convinced them to set her free. But it was over, it was done, no reason to dwell on it any longer. 

“Besides,” he continued, “I still have to teach you how to play Sabacc.”

“Yeah, we have to teach you so I can kick your ass!” Lewella’s face showed so much joy Cora had to wonder where she had that much positive energy from.

“You guys know Sabacc isn’t very high on the list of things I want to learn in the near future…” she tried arguing.

“Bullshit!”

“If you still want to extort money from me,” Cassian suggested, “at least do it in a civilized manner.”

“Blackmail is a very civilized manner, and much closer to my MO than gambling,” she said, shoving a finger in his face. 

“As you wish, Doctor,” he laughed. “I’ll see you tonight,” he said, before disappearing into the crowd. 

Cora followed his retreating frame for as long as she could. She felt drained of energy already and the day wasn’t over yet. There were still a few hours left of her shift and then a meeting with Draven. And later, the party she really didn’t want to attend. But Cassian was leaving once again, and a brief embrace and a chaste kiss didn’t really fulfill her need for him. So she’d go, spend as much time as she could with him. So when he was gone, she’d ache a little more. 

“Do you have dirt on Cassian?” Lewella suddenly asked.

“Maybe?”

“Whatever he’s paying, I’m paying double.”


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It took me a billion and a half years, but here it is! The rating has gone up, so if you're not comfortable with that, sorreeeee. Hopefully it isn't very bad, i had a pretty rough month and I couldn't really concentrate on this.  
> Thank you all so much for reading and leaving me feedback. You're all so sweet <3  
> Special thanks to Llexeh, my fanfiction soulmate, and to Mesh who can stand my endless complaining.
> 
> You can find the rules for the game [here](https://www.pagat.com/invented/sabacc.html).

“Well, Doctor, you’re not winning, but you’re losing quite spectacularly,” Melshi said, grinning at her over the cards he was holding up. The dim lights, the crappy pop music in the background, and the sharp smell of cheap alcohol gave the whole scene an air of depravity. 

“Shut up,” Cora mumbled, throwing him a dirty look, her own cards displayed on the table for everyone to see. He was right, she had lost. And quite spectacularly, to use his words, her pile of credits dwindling at a rapid pace despite her best efforts.

They had gathered in the makeshift bar down in the catacombs as soon as everyone’s shifts ended. There weren’t as many people as the first time she crashed their party, but enough of them to organize a game of Sabacc, along with a few bystanders who didn’t want to play, but made cheering on the players their second job. Cora couldn’t get the excitement, but then again she had never been a fan of gambling. 

She couldn’t say she understood Sabacc very well. Cassian had taken her aside early that evening and explained the rules, as slowly and as simply as possible, but thanks to the constant interference from Meshi and Lewella (who were convinced they knew better), she ended up being very confused. However, Cassian had been very patient and explained the same thing a million times, even though it became clear early on that Cora was just as dumb as a piece of rock. She’d get a hang of it as she started playing, they finally decided, thinking probably, than if they waited until she learned all the rules they wouldn’t start playing anytime soon. So they dealt the cards and threw her head first into the game.

From what she understood, the game went like this: the aim was to have in your hand cards that totaled 23, -23, or three cards that put together would make the number 023. The cards had values ranging from zero to 15 and -15, some being numbered cards (1-11), some being ranked cards (whose value she kept forgetting and had to ask Cassian again and again). In the beginning you were dealt two cards, then a round of betting, then another card would be dealt (or you could chose not to get a card, or change one card, but you could never discard one, which was annoying), then another round of betting, and it went like this for at least 4 rounds while the main pot was being built, which meant more money to lose for her. After that, one of the players decided to call the hand, another round of betting and then everyone revealed what they had in their hand. Having 23, -23 or 023 was a certain win, but that didn’t happen often, so whoever had the closest to 23 or -23 would win. If at this point you had in your hand cards totaling more than 23, less than -23 or exactly zero they say you ‘bombed out’, which meant that aside from losing the game you also had to pay a penalty. Which sucked, because Cora had bombed out a few times already.

Luckily, they agreed not to use real money this time, since she would be learning and they would have an unfair advantage over her, even though Lieutenant Selfa argued that you never really learn unless you feel the sting of losing real money. But as soon as Cora disclosed that she had no money anyway the argument was settled pretty quickly, so Melshi, who owned the Sabacc set, procured a stack of tokens that could be used instead of credits. And also a big bag of candy he equally split between the players because ‘people should still feel like they’re winning something’. 

Well, Cora was losing. Big time. It seemed like the whole concept of beginner’s luck had decided to take a vacation in a sunny place, so the plastic tokens and piles of candy were leaving her grasp at an alarming rate. Even with Cassian leaning on the back of her chair, looking at her cards over her shoulders, her losing streak couldn’t be broken. She was cursed, she decided.

“I did have a good hand before the shift,” she whined, frowning at her cards as if that could change anything. The shift, a random pulse that could occur any time during the game, was meant to make the whole thing more interesting by changing the values of all the cards in the game, except for those placed face up in the Disruptor Field. Cora hated it, because whatever hand she was building could be lost at any point and she had to start all over again with new cards and renewed frustration.

“Yeah,” Cassian agreed, studying her cards and scratching his beard. He had been giving her advice throughout the game, but he still couldn’t stop the disaster. Nothing could. 

She had let him drag her into this madness simply because she wanted to spend some more time with him, but this game ended up not being such a good idea. She didn’t really want to show everyone how stupid she could be with things she wasn’t familiar with, not when there was alcohol involved and everyone joked and she was tired. Cora sighed in frustration. She wished once again that she’d been a little braver and asked Cassian to skip the game and just spend the evening doing something else. Not that she disliked the game, on the contrary, she thought it could be really nice to play with friends, but she just wasn’t in the mood. The certainty that Cassian was going to leave in the morning had stripped her or any sort of enthusiasm. 

“At least you didn’t bomb out this time,” Lewella laughed, pointing at Cora’s cards that totaled 7 points, but the laughter soon turned into a hopeless whine. “Unlike me.” With a sigh she let the cards drop on the table and paid the penalty of 500 fake credits and three candy pieces in a secondary pot that Cora couldn’t remember how you won. Idiot something?

“So Melshi wins again?” Intelligence Agent Rodma Maddel asked, eyeing Melshi’s pile of plastic chips with more than a little envy. He had the most wins, with Lieutenant Selfa, who Cora just met tonight, close behind.

“Not so fast,” Selfa said, revealing his own cards. “Show your cards, Melshi. Let’s see what you got.”

Melshi started grinning and Cora knew they would bicker for a while, they had been doing it throughout the game, so she turned her attention towards Cassian, who was casually resting his forearms on her shoulders, making her hyper aware of his presence. She wondered if he did it intentionally, or was he naturally a bit of a tease and didn’t even realize it. He noticed her staring and raised an eyebrow. “It’s all your fault I’m losing,” she said, poking his cheek with a finger, making him pull back a little.

“And how is it my fault?” he asked, totally unperturbed by the accusation, a tiny smile in the corner of his mouth. 

“You’re bad luck,” Cora concluded, mirroring his smile. 

“I remember you telling me I was lucky. Have you changed your mind, Doctor?” he said in a low voice, that could easily be lost in the colourful assortment of noise that surrounded them. “But it’s ok, if you don’t want my help anymore...” He smirked, knowing full well that she wasn’t sure what the numbers on the cards were without his help. 

“No, no! I want your help, but I want it to actually be… helpful,” she demanded, aware that he couldn’t make miracles happen, but asking nonetheless.

“You’d better do what she says, Andor, and try not make her angry,” Lewella said, leaning back into her chair to take a better look at Cassian. “She’s got dirt on you and she’s not afraid to use it.”

“Does she?” asked Jav Mefran, who was seated right next to Cora. He was a really nice man (with an odd obsession for rainforests and penchant for alcohol) that had helped her move Ben from the dungeons to her room a few months back. 

“She doesn’t,” Cassian promptly denied, but Cora was silently nodding. 

Mefran started laughing and refilled some of the empty cups on the table. Cora’s was still almost full, since this time no one forced her to down it all in one gulp, nor did she feel like drowning her embarrassment in alcohol, so she refrained from drinking too much. The memory of the hangover she had the first time was still fresh in her memory and she still found the taste revolting. However she found out that the candy Melshi had split between them had a strong and unfamiliar taste, perfect for masking the stench of jet juice, so she kept popping them into her mouth when she thought no one was looking. 

“If I don’t, then how come you’re helping me tonight?” she asked Cassian, smiling innocently at him.

“I thought I was doing it out of the goodness of my heart.”

“Cassian, you have no heart. Wait, no, that is Melshi,” Lewella said, throwing a piece of candy at Melshi’s head, narrowly missing him.

“Leave me out of whatever that is,” Meshi yelled from the other end of the table, still pretty deep in his debate with Selfa. 

“Don’t deny it, Andor, I heard the word blackmail this morning.” Lewella turned back to Cassian. “And you should know that I offered to buy whatever she has on you, but she said that as long as you’ve agreed to pay the price she asked, she’s not gonna sell. That’s real friendship,” she said, lifting her cup. “And you should cherish it because every other person around this table would sell you for a crate of Corellian Brandy. Wait, even a bottle would do it for me.” She took a big gulp of alcohol. “That’s loyalty!” she emphasized.

“Well, tell that to Draven,” Cora mumbled, rubbing the spot on her wrist where one of the bracelets used to be.

“Listen to me, if you have something on Cassian, hold on to it, and never let him go,” Mefran said, an all knowing grin on his face. His greying beard made him look like he actually knew what he was talking about, especially when he used a fake academic tone and pointed at you with his index. “He’s a very useful individual, if you can control him.”

Cora felt Cassian’s arms leaving her shoulders as he straightened his back. She didn’t turn around to see him, but she could imagine the dirty look he was throwing Mefran. “What are you teaching her, Mefran?”

“The important things in life, my boy,” the older man replied. “Listen to me,” he told Cora, leaning closer to her. “Don’t let him go. Never ask for a big thing in exchange of what you have on him. Start with small things, tell him they add up and if he plays by your rules, you’ll eventually set him free. But never do so. Soon enough he’ll do whatever you want, because you’ll always tell him that the next time will be the last time and he won’t waste all those years of efforts he put into it.”

“Years?” Cassian seemed appalled by it, and Cora couldn’t help but laugh. An evil, maniacal laughter. “Please don’t give her ideas.”

“I have to nurture my evil gene. Now, we can start with 200 credits because I am all out of tokens,” she said, wiggling her fingers towards Cassian, who pretended he didn’t hear her.

While she wasn’t paying attention it seemed that the argument at the other end of the table was over and Melshi was once again the winner, so he cleaned the table of tokens. Now, after counting, she was only left with three pieces of candy and around 150 fake credits, not nearly enough to play a round of Sabacc. “Or I can sit this out and let someone else play, since I suck anyway.” 

“I can lend you some tokens, if you promise to pay me back later 50 actual credits for them,” Melshi offered, gesturing towards the huge pile of tokens he had won that night. He looked really proud of himself.

In exchange, Cora threw him a displeased look. “I appreciate your entrepreneurial spirit, but I wouldn’t be able to pay you back since I have no solid source of income,” she said, rather full of bitterness. She wasn’t much of a spender - there wasn’t much to spend on in the military anyway - but she still wished she had at least some pocket money. She still resented the Alliance for confiscating her 20000 credits.

“You’ll have a paycheck soon enough,” Lewella said, shrugging. “They can’t continue not paying you now that you’re not a prisoner anymore. But that doesn’t mean you have to make a deal with Melshi.”

Cora suddenly became hyper aware of the new bracelet she had on and made an effort not to play with it. It was thinner and looser than the others had been, dangling on her wrist. It was silver and didn’t look like handcuffs anymore, but it was still a weird new feeling. She compared it with the one Lewella was wearing and noticed they were very similar models. The biggest difference was that Cora couldn’t take it off. 

However, she noticed she was feeling a little relieved, now that the initial annoyance had passed. She was making baby steps, but she had been stupid thinking that gaining her freedom would be easy. When she left, she thought the moment she would be out the star destroyer’s gates she’d be free, but now she knew that she’d never be free from the Empire unless it fell and crumbled. They would always be looking for her, and you can’t really be free if you have to hide who you are forever. At least here she was safe. For now. 

“See, 50 credits isn’t that much…” Melshi pressed, despite the glare Lewella was throwing him.

“I refuse to make deals with you. I have a feeling it’s quite counterproductive.”

“Oh, come on!”

“Can we hurry and play another round because it’s getting late,” Lieutenant Selfa interrupted them. That made Cora look at the clock and realize that it was indeed pretty late. They had started playing around midnight and they’d been playing for a while, so Cora calculated how many hours of sleep she could get if she went to her room now: finding her way through the corridors, then changing, taking a shower, falling asleep… not too many. 

“I think I’m going to to head back now, I have an early shift tomorrow,” she said, trying to get up, but Lewella’s hand appeared on her shoulder and firmly pushed her back down. 

“So do I, but you can’t bail on the last game of the night,” Lewella threatened. “One more round and we’re all going to bed.”

Cora groaned. She was already tired, the turmoil of the day having drained her of energy, and she would rather sleep than lose another game. She could only be humiliated so many times in one single evening. “Still no credits,” she mumbled, pointing at whatever was left of her pile. 

“Well then you can bet on something else,” Melshi suggested, the grin on his face hinting at nothing good. 

“I am not betting my clothes,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest, throwing him an icy glare.

“What? No. That’s for another time,” he laughed, “when there’s more alcohol involved and you actually know how to play, so you won’t say I’m taking advantage of you.”

“Mhm.”

“No, I mean you can bet a favour. Whomever wins, gets a favour from you, nothing big, though. And if you win the game, you’ll get a favour from me, anything you want. Sweet deal, isn’t it?”

“Nope. I still don’t trust you.”

“Don’t break my heart, Cora.”

“What heart?” Lewella grinned and Cora snorted. 

“Well then, if that’s how you wanna play, I’ll be nice and accept your shoes.”

“Or,” Lewella sighed, “she can have half my tokens.” She split the pile in half and pushed a part in front of Cora. “Settled. Now let’s play and go to bed, because this is the third night I’ve been losing sleep and it’s beginning to show.”

“What have you been doing Lew?” Cassian laughed, taking a seat besides Melshi. 

“None ya business. Are you playing?”

“Yeah,” he replied, tapping his fingers on the table.

“Wait!” Cora exclaimed, realizing what that meant. “Who’s gonna help me?”

“You said I was bad luck, maybe you’ll be luckier on your own.” The smirk on Cassian’s face making her frown.

“Doubt it. But let’s do this,” she sighed, feeling dejected before even starting. It wasn’t a good feeling knowing you suck at something, and even worse when others were there to witness it. 

“Alright! Let’s do this!” Lewella exclaimed, with renewed enthusiasm. She seemed to have unending reserves of energy, that she tapped into at the most random times. 

Melshi expertly shuffled the cards and started dealing them. Cora grabbed hers, and and studied them: -11 and 3. She felt too tired to think of a strategy, so she decided she would just let the cards come until she would bomb out, she had nothing to lose anyway. Or she won the game, if the gods of luck decided to have mercy on her today. 

The game wasn’t that hard, after all she had studied medicine for many years and she wasn’t that stupid that she couldn’t learn how to play a card game, but there was this luck component that annoyed her. After the second round of betting the pulse changed the values of all the cards in her hand. She didn’t even bother counting the new total, instead she shifted her attention towards the other players. 

They were all surprisingly lively for the late hour. She assumed that by now they would have grown tired and mellowed out a little, but since Cassian entered the game they seemed invigorated. Especially Lewella, who kept saying that she would win this game because the God of Sabacc was on her side. 

It was the first time she’d seen Cassian play. If you’d only known him during work hours you would have never assumed he could be so relaxed, smiling and bantering with his fellow players. Contrary to what Cora had imagined, he wasn’t the reserved player with an unreadable face, but instead was constantly boasting and exchanging insults with Melshi. She assumed the alcohol had played a part in that too, the slight flush on his cheeks hinting at this. They all had work in the morning, so there was substantially less alcohol involved than last time, but it was enough to loosen the tongues and lift the spirits. 

“So, Cora, you losing or winning this time?” Melshi asked, winking at her.

“No idea, I haven’t looked at the cards since the last shift.”

“Oh, relying solely on luck, that’s a dangerous thing,” Mefran shared some of his wisdom.

“You know what they say, Mef, go big or go home,” Rodma laughed. “And speaking of going big, let’s finish this game,” she said, pushing her whole pile of tokens towards the main pot. “Last round.”

“I will go big then immediately after I will go home,” Cora laughed, pushing her pile to the middle too. “I’m all out of fucks to give.”

“So this is how you girls wanna play?” Melshi asked, and from the sudden drop in enthusiasm, Cora assumed his cards weren’t that good. Still, he pushed everything to the middle and everyone else followed. 

And then they started showing their cards. Jav Mefran had bombed out, Rodma had -17, Selfa had 15, Melshi had 17, Cora had, surprisingly 20, a number that could have won her the game but both Cassian and Lewella had 22 points which called for a Sudden Demise. When two players have an equal winning hand both of them have to draw a card and the best new total would be the winning hand. 

“So it’s just you and me in the end, Andor,” Lewella said, leaning back into her chair. “So many years of friendship on the line. And it all comes down to only two cards,” she said, dramatically, as if they had never betted against each other before.

“Let the best one win?” Cassian said, pushing the pack of cards towards her, a smirk playing on his lips. 

Cora’s stomach did a double flip, becoming much too aware of how good he looked that night. He looked well rested, something that wasn’t that usual for him, his beard and hair were trimmed and his uniform, although still pretty worn out, looked clean. This seemed to be the most put together version of Cassian she’d seen until now. She tried imagining him dressed up in formal wear, but the image in her head was too ridiculous to be taken seriously.

“I’m better than you no matter the result,” Lewella said, making an obscene gesture towards him.

“Or you can both bomb out and Cora wins,” Melshi butted in, a shit eating grin on his face. Cora assumed that seeing his friends lose and not seeing her win was giving him so much pleasure. 

“Or you can shut up.” Lewella threw him a dirty look before pulling out a card.

“But I already lost. Can I still win?” she asked as Cassian pulled a card from the deck and put it face down on the table, without even looking at it. This air of nonchalance with which he handled the cards was so different from his normal stiff demeanor, and Cora found herself staring once again. 

“If both of those idiots bomb out the next best hand wins. Yours in this case,” Melshi explained. 

“Awesome!” Cora said, her face erupting into a grin. So there was still a minuscule chance for her to not be a total failure tonight. “I hope you guys lose,” she confessed. 

“Wow, Cora. After I lent you fake money so you could still play, this is how you repay me?” Lewella pretended to be hurt.

“If I don’t win I can’t pay you back.” It was a lie, she just wanted to win so she could feel better about herself.

“It’s ok, you can just pay me back 50 real credits from your first paycheck from the Rebellion,” she said, turning her card over, and counting the points once again.

“Can’t we let the girl win just this once?” Melshi asked, seeming to care a lot about Cora now that he had no chance of winning. “Since it’s her party after all. Let’s not be dicks and kick her ass every time.”

“If you were a tiny bit more condescending, I’d think you’re related to Draven,” Cora snorted. 

“How do you know I’m not?” Melshi said, grinning widely. “He could be my daddy for all I know.”

“Too young,” Mefran laughed.

“Well, Cora, your wish came true,” Lewela said, crossing her arms over her chest and throwing a really dirty look in Cora’s direction. 

“I’m sorry,” she said, patting her dejected friend’s shoulder, even though she was laughing inside. Now that she had a real chance at winning, the game suddenly became a little more enticing. “I’m going to share my candy with you if I win. And if I don’t I will just join you in suffering.”

Lewella rested her head on the table, groaning. “I hate you. But,” she said, getting up again, “now that you cursed me, you better win.” The icy glare she threw Cora made her swallow her giggle. It was funny how much Lewella seemed to care about this game. 

Cassian, on the other hand, didn’t seem to care about it at all. But he had been really excited while explaining the rules to her, so Cora assumed he was just pretending to be as laid back as he was. 

“So, Doctor,” he said, playing with the face down card on the table, “speaking of favours…”

“You’re not getting a ‘get-out-of-hospital-free’ card if you win. No way,” she said.

“Does he really need one?” Rodma asked, laughing. “You may have to win a ‘keep-him-in-hospital’ card if you want him to stay.”

“It’s ok, I have sedatives and restraints for that,” she chuckled. “There is no favour to win, Captain, just a bunch of fake credits and candy.” 

The idea of having Cassian owe her a favour was really enticing at that point, but the mischievous look in his eyes made her think twice before risking to owe him one. She was sure he could get creative in his demands, even though, if they were of a certain nature, she was sure she wouldn’t mind that much.

“Are you sure?” Mefran asked, scratching his beard. “It would be a pretty big deal to win. Plus, the game would actually have a purpose.”

“Pretty sure.”

“You’re a coward,” Lewella added.

“I’m not a coward, I’m cautious,” Cora explained, but Lewella didn’t seemed convinced. “Look at him, would you risk owing him a favour?” They both glanced at Cassian who was currently looking surprisingly harmless. 

“I’ve done dumber things in my life,” Lewella sighed, and Cora made a mental note to ask her one day what those were. Knowing her, they would be pretty outrageous and funny stories. 

Cassian still looked suspiciously innocent. He seemed to have changed his demeanor in the blink of an eye. He was a spy, she remembered, and one of the best. He was supposed to be able to trick people into liking and trusting him. She wasn’t going to fall into his trap. 

“Still no,” she said, pursing her lips.

“As you wish,” he said, flipping the card. Everyone leaned over the table to take a better look. It was a -2, which meant his new total was 20. He had won. The bastard had won.

“I have a feeling you cheated,” Cora frowned, leaning back into her chair. “You were way too sure of yourself. You knew you were going to win.”

“I didn’t cheat,” he defended himself. “And I didn’t know I was going to win.”

“You did,” Cora threw him a dirty look.

“Did you see me cheat? Did anyone see me cheat?”

There were a few shrugs and mumbles, but no one backed Cora up. “I still think you cheated.”

“You’re just a sore loser, Cora,” Melshi said, starting to clean the table, so everyone got up and followed his example. 

“I’m allowed to be a sore loser. I lost every game tonight,” she mumbled, while putting the mugs aside so Melshi could gather the Sabacc set. 

“I’m a loser too,” Lewella whined, leaning onto Cora’s shoulders, being the drama queen she always was.

“Yes. Now get off of me because you’re heavy,” Cora said, trying to shake her off.

“Heartless,” Lewella mumbled. 

They finished cleaning up in record time, everyone eager to be done with it and be off to bed. No matter how much they enjoyed drinking and gambling they were all very aware that they had work in the morning. Cora especially, even though she was more aware that she won’t be seeing Cassian for god knows how long after tomorrow. She hadn’t expected something like this to matter so much, after all she was used to be away from the people she cared about, but here she was, moping because her crush - she couldn’t even call him boyfriend - was going away on a mission. 

They turned off the music and the lights and left the room. The corridors resounded with their jokes and laughter, a sound so foreign in the usually silent underground. They were walking in almost complete darkness, the only light coming from Rodma’s flashlight, but it was enough for Cora to see the steps and turns and not fall to her face. Lewella had latched onto her arm and was making small talk with Lieutenant Selfa. Cassian was a few steps behind her, walking in silence. She could feel him more than she heard him, because even after drinking a few shots of liquor he was still as silent as ever. 

Cora wished once again that she could spend a few moments alone with Cassian. Walking through the dark corridors reminded her of the time he walked her home. Her head was a lot clearer this time, but she still wanted to kiss him until she was out of breath. Unfortunately, she remembered how he didn’t kiss her this morning in the elevator, so maybe he wasn’t that interested in her anymore.

“This is where I leave you,” she announced, once they arrived in the lit part of the catacombs. Her room was opposite from the elevators, so she had to say goodbye now. “Thank you all for the party, I had a lot of fun. And now I know how to play Sabacc, a skill I will hopefully never need…”

“You never know,” Melshi said, waving her goodbye. “Maybe one day your life will depend on it.”

“Gods, I hope not…”

“See you tomorrow!” Lewella gave her a bone crushing hug. “I’ve heard we’ll have a supply shipment so arm yourself with patience.”

“Awesome,” Cora groaned, already knowing that it would be a terrible shift. 

“Maybe if you get bored of working in the med bay you can request a transfer to Storage, you’re already used to the place,” Cassian offered, gaining a death glare from Cora and a stifled laugh from Lewella. 

“I am pretty sure I can hide your dead body in C3 and no one would ever find it,” Cora threatened.

“You may be right,” he agreed. “But you’d have to kill me first.”

“Doable. Anyway, take care tomorrow,” she said, once Lewella had turned around and wasn’t paying attention. “I have enough work without having to patch you up.”

“One minute ago you’re threatening to kill me and the next you’re telling me to be careful?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. 

“I wouldn’t want them to deprive me of the pleasure of murdering you myself,” she said, trying to somehow hide how much she actually worried. 

He chuckled. “I’ll try my best,” he said taking a few steps down the hall.

“And make sure Lewella goes to bed. I have a feeling that if you leave her alone she’ll find someone willing to drink with her until morning. And that wouldn't be a problem but I need her to be functional tomorrow,” Cora said, earning an obscene gesture from Lewella and a nod of approval from Cassian.

And so they were gone. She could still hear the rowdy bunch as she opened the door to her room. She felt a little lonely, she admitted. She always had roommates, right until she moved to the Star Destroyer, and no matter how much she loved the comfort of living alone, it was sometimes too silent. The only sound in the underground room was the constant whirring of the ventilation system and the quiet clicking noise Ben’s tank was making. 

She looked at the alarm clock and realized it was terribly late, but the nervousness that had been ever present since morning hadn’t subsided, so even if her body and mind were aching for rest she knew it would be hard to fall asleep. A shower would help, she hoped. 

She lazily took off her clothes and discarded them into the laundry basket. Before she stepped into the shower, she took a peak in the mirror. She had lost some weight, she noticed. Either that, or the lack of physical exercise was making her lose her shape. She knew she should be hitting the gym from time to time, but without it being mandatory it was hard to find the time or energy to do it. The scar was still visible on her back, a bright, angry pink staining the scarred area. She scrunched her nose and stepped into the shower. 

She spent longer that necessary just letting the water run through her hair and over her body, the sensation calming her nerves and easing the tension in her muscles. It was one of those very few moments of peace, when even the voice in her head had quieted down. When she stepped out, all warm and clean, she was ready to sleep. What she wasn’t ready for was a knock on her door. 

At first, she thought it was her imagination, the knock more of a soft tapping than a loud and furious bang. But then came the second knock, just as weak as the first, but as clear as day, so all doubt was gone. Over the time she had gotten used to recognizing all sounds that were out of the ordinary, and a knock on her door in the middle of the night was certainly out of the ordinary. Unless it was an emergency. She hastily wrapped herself into a towel and hurried to the door, hoping she wouldn’t trip and fall in the process. 

She relaxed once she opened the door and saw Cassian on her doorstep. Not that he couldn’t be the bearer of bad news, on the contrary, if anything bad happened she expected to see him, but there was something about the casual almost laid-back way he leaned on her doorframe and the smirk in the corner of his mouth that convinced her an emergency wasn’t the purpose of this late night visit.

She leaned on the other side of the door copying his stance, and crossed her arms over her chest. “Long time no see,” she said, smiling cheekily at him. 

“I may have cheated,” he admitted, and even though she didn’t expect him to be ashamed, she certainly didn’t expect him to look so damn proud of it. 

“May have?” she asked, arching an eyebrow. “That’s a little vague, Captain. Not much of a confession.” 

“Of course, I wouldn’t do something as despicable as cheat on a card game,” he chuckled. His eyes drifted to the exposed skin above her towel, a shadow of lust darkening his eyes. “But I may have influenced the result a little bit.” 

She could feel herself starting to blush, a warm feeling taking over her body. He came back, and she could tell from the way his eyes lingered on her cleavage that he wasn’t here for another round of Sabacc. It was another game he wanted to play, one that she liked to think she was at least a little better at. One that she actually wanted to play.

“A little bit,” she repeated, extending her hand and straightening a barely visible wrinkle on his jacket, then letting it fall over his rank badge, following its outline with the tip of her finger.

“A little bit.” 

“Aha, so you had to make sure I didn’t win. So I had to owe you a favour,” she said, pretending to be upset, even though she was sure it wasn’t very credible acting. “And now you couldn’t sleep because this was clouding your conscience, Captain?” 

“Or maybe,” he said, catching her hand in his, making her heart skip a beat, “I couldn’t sleep because you didn’t wish me ‘goodnight’.” 

There was a certain softness to him, one that she hadn’t really noticed before. It made him look younger, it made him look gentle, something that didn’t usually come to mind when you saw his usual frown and serious demeanor. That, coupled with the seductive way he was looking at her, made him really hard to resist. Not that she ever thought of resisting him, quite the opposite. 

“Well, you didn’t wish me goodnight either,” she teased.

“Perhaps I didn’t want the night to end,” he said, bringing her hand up to his lips and placing a tentative kiss on the palm of her hand. 

She grinned, the anticipation making her heart beat faster, and grabbed him by the collar, pulling him into her room. “Then you should come in,” she offered, taking a few steps back towards the center of the room. “And stay for… a coffee... that I definitely don’t have.” 

He laughed, but gladly followed her inside, the door automatically closing behind him. The only light in the room was coming from the open door of the bathroom and the tiny light bulb in Ben’s tank, creating an accidental atmospheric lighting that was quite pleasant. 

He didn’t waste any time and placed his hands on her hips, pulling her closer. Cora eagerly fell into his embrace; the ache for his touch was almost physical, so she pressed herself into his chest and put her arms around his neck, burying her fingers into his soft hair. He took a moment to really look at her, before he did anything else. She could see her own desire mirrored in his beautiful brown eyes, but also something else, she noticed as she started getting lost into his gaze. A sort of longing, maybe.

Slowly and almost hesitantly he pressed his lips to hers. It was a tender kiss at first, so different from the few they had shared before, an almost chaste brushing of lips that sent shivers down her spine, but the gentleness lasted only a few seconds, and as lust took over it turned into a hungry, almost desperate kiss. He lightly bit her lip prompting her to open her mouth just enough for him to gain access. In response, she dug her nails into his scalp and scratched the back of his neck. He grinned and kissed her even harder. 

Her towel, already precariously tied around her, had given in and was now slipping off, only held in place by their bodies pressing together. Cassian took advantage of the sudden revealing to explore the roundness of her now bare ass, kneading her flesh with the fervour and neediness of someone who hadn’t touched anyone else in a long time. Cora gasped, his hands finally where she wanted them, finally touching her like she had dreamt of for so long. 

She could feel him getting hard, his growing erection pushing into her hip, so she brought a hand between his legs and started stroking him through the coarse material of his trousers, making him swallow hard and squeeze her ass every time she applied a little more pressure. 

When they broke the kiss, they were already panting. Their hearts were racing, adrenaline running through their veins, minds clouded by lust. Cassian’s hair, savagely mistreated by Cora’s restless hands was now sticking up. His cheeks were flushed and his lips parted, pink from all the biting and sucking. She couldn’t help but giggle at the sight. He was a really handsome man, she thought. Yes, a little rough around the edges, but it was those edges she liked so much. Especially in moments like these when he wasn’t all serious and composed.

She took a few steps towards the bed, the towel falling to the ground leaving her completely naked before him. She could feel him looking, even as she turned around, and was thankful for the dim light in the room, that hopefully didn’t accentuate all her imperfections. Yet, despite her insecurities, she still wanted him to look. She wanted him to look and she wanted him to like her just as much as she liked him. 

He followed her and placed his hands on her back, his fingers gently tracing the outline of her scar. She kept her head down so hopefully he couldn’t see how furiously she was blushing. “You’re very beautiful,” he said, his voice a low whisper in her ear as he pulled her closer to his chest, his jacket feeling rough against her back, but it didn’t matter. He started kissing down her neck, sucking and nibbling at the delicate skin. Cora felt like she was melting under his touch, her mind a little blurry, her whole body burning with lust. 

“You’re not half bad yourself,” she managed to articulate between shaky inhales. His hands had brushed over her stomach and then gone up to cup her breasts. He gently caressed her nipples, making them perk up under his fingers, his touch feeling almost like electricity on her skin. She could feel his erection rubbing over her ass through his trousers, and she could only imagine how uncomfortable that must have been. “Although, a little overdressed for the occasion,” she added.

“Mm,” he moaned into her neck. “That can be fixed.”

Cora felt a little lost when he broke the embrace, cold air suddenly rushing over her burning skin, but couldn’t help but laugh at how fast he discarded his jacket and kicked off his boots. Speak of the skills you pick up as a soldier: fast to dress up, even faster to undress. 

“Almost there,” she said, as she grabbed his shirt and helped him pull it over his head. “Much better.” 

It was now her turn to let her hands roam over his chest, enjoying the way his skin felt under her fingers. He kissed her forehead tenderly before bringing her lips back to his in another heated kiss. She unclasped his belt and undid his trousers, finally freeing his penis from its confines. She heard him let out a breath of relief as she did so, and the take in a sharp inhale as she touched him. He felt hard and hot as she started moving up and down, agonizingly slow at first, passing her hand over his length, insisting on his tip, then going down again, still too slow to give him the relief he wanted. She could feel him trying to push back, desperate for more friction, but she decided to tease him a little longer. 

“Come on, Cora,” he growled, his gruff voice sending a wave of pleasure through her. 

The first time they had sex it was impulsive and rushed, hiding in a cramped room on a spaceship, hurrying to finish so they could get back to base. There was no gentleness, just an almost animalic need to find relief. So this time she wanted to enjoy it, she wanted to really taste him and feel him and let herself come undone under his touch. Who knew if they’d ever have the time to do it again. 

She let go of him for a second and brought her hands back to his chest, and in one sudden motion she pushed him onto her bed, meeting very little resistance from him. 

“Feisty,” he said, as she climbed on top of him. 

“This morning you were complaining that I had mellowed out,” she said, leaning over him to place a few soft kisses on his chest.

“Not complaining anymore,” he said, and then noticed the necklace that was now dangling between her breasts. “You’re still wearing this?” he asked, grabbing the chain.

“Yes.” She sat onto his lap, splaying her hands across his abdomen, idly caressing his scars. “I fear that if I take it off, someone will come and erase my precious memory.”

He laughed and sat up, letting go of the chain. “You think I’d just barge into your room late at night and go through your stuff?” he asked, placing a row of kisses onto her collarbone.

“I think you’d knock first,” she said, but she completely lost her train of thought once his mouth closed over one of her nipples and his attention shifted towards her chest. Her breathing became a little more ragged. She started mindlessly rocking her hips into him, trying to find some friction, but getting almost none. It didn’t take long for him to take the cue and push a hand between her legs, gently pressing it over her clit, giving her exactly what she was looking for. She was already wet enough for him to easily slip two fingers into her. She wasn’t able to think straight anymore, so she just grabbed onto his shoulders and shifted a little to give him better access.

She didn’t know for how long he kept doing that, before she felt herself get hoisted in the air and placed with her back on the bed. She pulled him into a kiss, but he wiggled out of her grasp, leaving a trail of kisses down her chest and abdomen, his stubble pleasantly tickling. He kissed the inside of her thigh, moving down agonizingly slow, a punishment, she thought, for her half assed handjob she gave him earlier, painfuly delaying the moment when his lips would finally meet her sex. And when they did, his tongue reaching deep between her folds, tracing a hot, wet line until finally settling on her clit, she had to bite the back of her hand to stop herself from moaning. 

She kept silent even though there was no one that could hear her, but habits die hard. She kept her eyes shut, her breathing becoming more laborious with every flick of his tongue, clutching onto the sheets every time his fingers curled inside her and touched one of her sweet spots. He settled into a steady rhythm of licking and sucking and thrusting his fingers inside her that was threatening to bring her to orgasm much too soon.

“No… not like this,” she moaned, feeling herself dangerously close to coming. “I want you.”

He didn’t need another invitation. He stood up to get rid of the trousers that were already slipping off his hips and he was back on top of Cora in no time. She watched him with a dazed smile on her face and kissed him deeply once he was back in her arms. 

Much to her relief, he didn’t waste any more time and entered her in a single thrust, filling her completely. She moaned despite her best efforts and grabbed onto his shoulders for support, angling herself to meet his thrusts. He started slow, but didn’t take long for him to pick up the pace, closing his eyes as pleasure gripped his body, losing himself in the moment. Cora wasn’t thinking straight anymore either, her mind completely taken over by ecstasy, feeling like she had no control over her body anymore. The only thing she could focus on was how good he felt inside her, how much she needed him to get her off. 

It didn’t take long for her to fall apart under him, waves of pleasure washing over her, making her shudder and clench around him. He came shortly after her, his whole body tensing up and finally relaxing. He collapsed on top of her and stayed like that for a while, his face buried in the crook of her neck, his breath tickling her skin. She still held onto his shoulders, holding him close, stroking the skin on his back. It was comforting just staying like that, limbs entangled, skin slick with sweat, minds pleasantly numb.

When he finally rolled over she wasn’t ready to let him go just yet, so she moved closer and snuggled into him. He would be leaving tomorrow anyway, and she didn’t know when she’d see him again and if she’d ever have the opportunity to do this again, so she decided to allow herself to be as clingy as possible. 

He didn’t seem to mind, instead pulled her closer and kissed her forehead, a gesture so tender she couldn’t help but feel overcome with happiness. They didn‘t say anything for a long time, they just laid there in silence. Maybe there was nothing to say, or maybe there was too much and none of them knew how to start. Cora was grateful for it, delaying the moment when she’d have to face her feelings, as always. Right now she was happy and content and that was all that mattered. Tomorrow was another day and she’d deal with it then.

She could feel weariness quickly taking over, her eyelids getting heavier and heavier, her body pleasantly warm and snug in his embrace. Before she fell asleep, she looked over to Cassian expecting to see him sleeping, but noticing he was wide awake, staring at the ceiling. She shifted a little, grabbing a sheet and covering them both before nestling in his arms again. 

“Go to sleep, Cassian,” she mumbled, placing a kiss on his collarbone and then resting her head on his chest. 

He pulled her close and nuzzled into her hair, his fingers lazily tracing her spine. “Do you want to leave?” he asked, his voice merely a whisper.

Leave where, in the middle of the night, she asked herself, blinking in confusion. It took her a minute to figure out what he was really asking: if she wanted to leave the Rebellion. A cold shiver ran down her spine when she realized what that could mean. Was he offering to help her escape? He could take her away, if he wanted. Taking her bracelet off wasn’t such a problem and he had the means to leave the base unseen. But that would mean risking his career and his place in the Alliance, and all the trust they had put in him, and if they’d find out what he’d done, she didn’t think they’d just forgive him. Would he be willing to risk it all just to set her free?

And there was a second question she had to ask herself, did she really want to leave? He could take her away someplace safe and drop her there, let her be free, but she realized that she didn’t really want that anymore. She didn’t want to be alone anymore. And she was pretty sure that even if she asked him to stay with her, change their names, leave this war behind and start a new life, the both of them, he’d probably say no. 

“Not tonight,” she mumbled, stifling a yawn. “Lewella will kill me if I leave her alone tomorrow,” she joked, trying to diffuse the tension. 

He chuckled, and relaxed a little. Cora did the same and in no time she found herself starting to doze off, her worries forgotten for now in the safety of his embrace. She fell asleep in mere minutes, so she never knew if he’d eventually fallen asleep too.


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone for reading and taking your time to give me feedback, it means a lot to me! You're all way too sweet! 
> 
> Special thanks to my fanfiction soulmate who can proofread my fic even when they have a shitload of work.

When she woke up he was gone. 

It’s not like she expected him to stay for breakfast, especially since he was supposed to leave on a mission that morning, but she thought he’d at least wake her up before he left. You know, tell her goodbye, give her a kiss, that sort of thing. They may not have been officially lovers, but they weren’t strangers either, so she kind of expected him not to act like one. Instead, as she sat on the edge of the bed, looking around, it seemed like he had never even been there. Like a ghost, passing through her life, leaving no physical trace behind.

Still, she couldn’t ask too much of him, she decided as she sighed and stumbled towards the bathroom, the lack of sleep making her head spin. He was a busy man after all. And seeing how the first time they had sex he left right after finishing, the fact that he stayed to cuddle could be considered progress. Baby steps, Cora, she reminded herself. Life is never as easy as you imagine it to be. 

She quickly showered and threw on her uniform, not wasting too much time brooding over his absence (or rather doing it while she was getting ready). Seeing as she had slept through two alarms, she was already running late. She knew no one would yell at her for sleeping in, but she still wanted to be there on time, since there would be a lot of work with the supplies coming in. 

Before she left, she noticed that Cassian had picked up the towel she had thrown on the floor the night before, folded it and placed it in the laundry basket. It made her smile. It was a simple gesture, maybe it was even out of reflex, something that he didn’t think through, but to her it was a sign that he didn’t rush out of there like he was afraid of getting caught. Maybe he even tried to wake her up. She doubted he would have succeeded if he’d tried, and somehow that thought lifted her spirits a little. 

The hangar was already full of people when Cora got there. Most of the ships hadn’t been cleared for takeoff until that morning, so everyone seemed eager to leave the base now that the weather had gotten better. The constant buzzing of people and droids was back, the base feeling alive once again. All the damage done by the storm had been fixed so now its rage seemed a distant memory. 

She couldn’t help but look around for Cassian’s ship, trying to get a glimpse of him before he left, but even though she spent a full minute scanning the area, there was no sign of him or his ship or the black droid that usually stuck out in the crowd like a sore thumb. She sighed and entered the med bay.

“You’re surprisingly late this morning,” Lewella’s said instead of a greeting. “Four minutes late, to be exact. How uncharacteristic of you. What happened?” she enquired, jokingly. 

“I slept in,” Cora groaned, pouring herself a cup of coffee. “Did the shipment come in yet?”

“Not yet, but it’s imminent. How come you slept in?”

“I couldn’t wake up?” Cora raised an eyebrow at Lewella, who was smiling strangely at her. There was a devious look in her eyes.

“How so? You’re usually the first one to wake up,” she said in a seemingly indifferent tone, playing with some papers on the desk, but Cora could feel the underlying curiosity. Something was up. She could sense it. 

“Ummm… I was tired. We’ve been up late last night, in case you don’t remember.” She was curious where this was going. It wasn’t like Lewella to question her motives for sleeping in, or for anything for that matter. Sure, she was usually pretty early at work, but it wasn’t the first time she had come in late after a long night. She had a feeling Lewella was onto something. 

“So after the party you just went back to your room and went just to sleep?”

“Actually, no, I took a shower and then I went to sleep.”

“No nightly visitors, no nothing?” Lewella prodded, her voice sweet as honey.

“What? Where did that come from?” Cora asked, wide eyed. She was sure Cassian hadn’t said anything, he wasn’t the type to brag about his conquests. Also she was sure he had waited until he could come unseen, otherwise what was the point of leaving and then coming back? Unless he needed some time to convince himself to come. Either way, how did Lewella know?

She shrugged. “Well Melshi joked on the way up, and I don’t know…” she trailed off. “So, did anyone come back?”

“No!” Cora denied, but could feel her cheeks starting to burn. She didn’t really want to hide it, Lewella was her friend after all, but she wasn’t really used to sharing things like this. Her closest friends, with whom she might have shared such intimate details, were either dead or she hadn’t seen in years. “No one came back,” she insisted, hoping Lewella couldn’t sense the lie. 

“You’re lying,” Lewella said, crossing her arms, looking at Cora with a naughty glint in her eyes. “I know you’re lying.”

“And how can you possibly know that?” Cora asked, a little irritated (and also a little scared) by the confidence her friend was showing. 

“I know because you have a very visible hickey on your neck that wasn’t there last night,” she said, pointing a slender finger at her neck.

Cora froze, feeling like her blood had suddenly ran cold. Could it be possible that she had overlooked such a thing in her hurry to get to work on time? Checking for hickeys was something that really hadn’t crossed her mind. It was possible that he had left a mark, but somehow she hadn’t thought about it. She brought a hand up to her neck in an attempt to hide whatever was there, but her hand met the uniform’s fabric. Lewella’s booming laughter made her realize that she had fallen into her trap.

“I didn’t think you’d actually fall for it. You went white as a sheet, Cora,” she said, trying to calm her laughing fit. She wiped a few tears from the corner of her eyes. “Don’t you dare deny anything now.”

“Oh, shut up,” Cora mumbled, turning her back to Lewella, ashamed that the initial shock had made her forget that the uniform’s collar covered almost all the skin on her neck, so there was no way that a hickey could be visible.

“Nothing to be ashamed of, we all like to have a little fun from time to time,” she said, with a sweet, reassuring smile, but Cora was still eyeing her suspiciously. “So… who came back?”

“No one came back,” Cora insisted, but she kept her head down, hoping that if Lewella couldn’t see her blush, the lie would somehow be more believable. 

“Was it Melshi?” she enquired. 

“No! It wasn’t Melshi! There was no nightly visitor,” Cora vehemently denied, praying to seven gods that this questioning would stop. 

“So it wasn’t Melshi,” Lewella said, her grin growing bigger. “Then it was Cassian.”

“It wasn’t Cassian either,” she denied again, but it was weaker and she could feel herself blushing harder. She tried making herself busy with something, trying to stay as far away from Lewella as possible, but her friend kept following her through the room. 

“It was Cassian.” 

“It wasn’t. It was no one.”

“Oh come on, please satisfy my curiosity just this time. I promise I’m gonna leave you alone if you do.” Lewella’s puppy eyes were really hard to resist, plus the possibility that the interrogation would be over was very enticing. Still, Cora was afraid that Lewella would make a big deal out of her confession and it would escalate and she still wasn’t sure how her relationship with Cassian could be defined. If she was still confused about it, it was probably too soon to share it with someone else. 

“Another time, maybe,” Cora said, a pleading smile on her face, and she could see Lewella’s enthusiasm slowly dropping. 

“Fine!” she exclaimed, throwing her hands up in defeat. “But I’ve already told you who I’m banging so…”

“A piece of information that I really didn’t need,” Cora sighed. 

“You’re a bad friend,” Lewella concluded. 

“Morning, Doctors! We have goodies,” one of the guys from Storage announced, entering the med bay with a large cart in tow.

“What did you say? You have cooties?” Lewella mocked, looking a bit annoyed that he had interrupted their chat and that she had to get to work instead of idling with a cup of coffee in her hand. Cora was thankful that, at least for now, the subject had been dropped. 

Getting supplies was always a messy process, and it usually gathered all the medical personnel available. It was a job that in other med bays Cora had worked in was handled by a totally different part of staff, but here everyone had more responsibilities that their actual job entailed. And it usually wasn’t a bad thing, but with Alara and two other medics suffering from a quite severe case of the flu and another two getting ready to go on missions off world, it was pretty clear that most of it fell onto Cora’s and Lewella’s shoulders.

It was a pretty boring process, checking things on seemingly unending lists, stocking medical cabinets, making even more lists, and eventually getting annoyed that you still didn’t have everything you needed. Cora, who was usually pretty resilient and certainly very used to long, bureaucratic processes from her time in the Empire, was already getting a migraine by the time they had finished putting everything aside. It wasn’t her best day, it seemed. Lewella had given up a few times and spent more than twenty minutes of the toilet just contemplating the decisions that had brought her to this point. 

Cora was still hanging in there, unwilling to give up just yet, a data-pad in hand, a frown and a stony expression on her face, when the pilots and sergeants started pouring in, asking for supplies to restock their medipacks before leaving on missions. Luckily, with most of them stuck on base for so long there were very few emergencies, so the med bay was otherwise pretty silent. 

“Morning ladies!” Melshi announced his presence by yelling at the top of his lungs, the moment he entered the med bay.

Cora groaned loudly. She had just finished dealing with a bunch of pilots and was hoping to get five minutes of peace so she could sit down, rest her legs and chug another cup of coffee, trying to clear the fog the lack of sleep had left on her mind.

“It’s almost noon, Sergeant,” she said, sighing and taking the data pad out of his hands. 

“It’s morning for some of us,” he grinned, following her to the storage area. “You could have used some more sleep, Doc, you look like crap.”

Cora frowned at the mean comment, but she had gotten used to his weird sense of humour and couldn’t get mad at him. “Has anyone ever hit you in the face with a data pad, Sergeant?” she threatened nonetheless.

“Twice, actually,” he said, still grinning.

“Wanna make that three?” Cora replied with a smirk.

“Actually, no, I wanna have my nose intact for my next mission, maybe I can you know… find some nice local girls willing to fall in love with a handsome freedom fighter. I need a good nose for that,” Melshi said, his grin somehow growing wider. Cora snorted and went back to counting bacta patches and shoving them into his supply bag. “And speaking of getting laid, did he come by your place last night?”

Cora felt the colour drain from her face for the second time that morning. Somehow, she had forgotten about the talk she had with Lewella and it didn’t cross her mind that Melshi would start it all over again, even though she should have expected it. She was even less ready to argue right now than she has been earlier, the busy morning having drained her of the little energy she had left.

“No, he did not,” she tried getting him to shut up before Lewella heard him. She had finished what she had been doing and was now coming to join them in the storage area.

“Really?” He seemed a little disappointed. “I tried giving him a hint, but who knows what gets through his thick skull. Are you sure you’re not lying to me, Cora?”

She sighed. “Please don’t start with this, I’ve just managed to get Lew to shut up,” she pleaded, hoping that Melshi would understand and have mercy on her. 

“What?” he asked, throwing Lewella a quick glance. “Does she also know that you’ve been banging Cassian?” he asked loud enough that at least three solar systems could hear him.

“I knew it!” Lewella exclaimed, suddenly tapping into that unending supply of energy. “I fucking knew it!”

“Well she didn’t know shit, until you told her just now!” Cora yelled exasperated, much too tired to deal with these idiots.

“Well, Doctor, I didn’t know for sure either until you just told me,” he said, a shit eating grin plastered on his face and Cora was sure that right then and there, she could kill him. Lewella was in the main area of the med bay doing a little victory dance, and Cora felt that her life had to come to an end.

“I’ll just kill myself,” she mumbled to herself, hiding her face in her palms. “I need a suicide pill.”

“You can talk to Cassian about that, but he’s already left,” Melshi said, taking the supply bag off the counter. 

“Then shoot me please,” she begged, her voice a pathetic whine.

“No can do, the ammo is rationed.” 

The sound of the automatic doors opening forced Cora to get out of her depressed state and go back to the med bay, followed closely by a grinning Melshi. Lewella had stopped dancing, but was still way too joyful. Fortunately, it was just Aidan that had come down to ask for some medication, until the infirmary upstairs would got their own supply shipment later that day. Unfortunately, Cora really didn't want to deal with him, so she passed him on to Lewella.

“Hey, where are you going?” she yelled after Cora.

“To drown myself in the toilet,” Cora groaned.

“What? What happened?” Aidan seemed a little confused by Cora’s gloomy demeanor.

“I sucked all her happiness away, Doctor Veltz,” Melshi said, in a very believable serious tone, that would have usually earned at least a snicker from Cora, but now she just wanted to strangle him. “Don’t die in there,” she heard him yell after her, but one the bathroom door closed, she found herself surrounded by silence. She could finally rest for a few moments.

When Lewella found her, a few minutes later, Cora was still in the bathroom, sitting on the toilet seat, on what Lewella liked to call ‘the throne of existential despair’. She wasn’t sure why she had isolated herself there, she just felt like she needed a few moments of peace and quiet. 

“Hey,” Lewella said, leaning on the stall next to her. “I’m sorry if we upset you, we were just joking. Sometimes it can get out of hand without any of us realizing,” she said, sounding genuinely apologetic. 

“It’s ok, I’m not upset,” Cora said, not really angry at any of them. “I just hope he won’t go around the base telling everyone. I don’t want people talking and making things up. You know how these things can get.” Somehow she had the feeling that Cassian would appreciate the rumours even less than she did. 

“Who, Melshi?” she asked with a smirk in the corner of her mouth. “Don’t worry about him, he’ll never tell. He’ll tease you relentlessly, but he’d never betray your trust. If he did, he wouldn’t be our friend anymore.”

“You sure about that?” she asked in a little voice, feeling guilty for her mistrust.

“Very. He hasn’t even told me about it, and he knows I wouldn’t tell a soul, especially if it was something about you. I assume he’s known about you and Cassian for a while. So don’t worry, ok?”

“Ok,” Cora said, giving her a weak smile and wondering if the anxiety she was feeling was founded or it was just because she was tired.

“Come on, let’s send someone to get us some lunch and we’ll have a break, it’s been a long morning,” she said, urging Cora to get up. “And an even longer night for you,” she teased.

“Oh shut up,” Cora groaned, but she was smiling. “You said you’d shut up about it once you knew who it was.”

“Well, I said that when I was sure I wouldn’t find out, and now that I know, it doesn’t sound like a such a good deal.”

Cora snorted. “No turning back now.”

“You’re right. But if you ever feel like talking, about this or about anything else, I’m here for you,” she offered. 

“I know, and thank you,” she said, smiling. “I’m just... a little confused right now.”

“Human interactions are always confusing. You’ll figure it out in time,” she said, patting Cora’s shoulder. Cora nodded and followed her friend out of the bathroom and back into the real world.

 

*

 

Samarkand was covered in darkness when he landed. Theoretically, no one could leave or enter the planet’s orbit now that the Empire had taken control of it, but Cassian had his ways. After all, he was the Alliance’s best spy, and for good reason. 

“You didn’t sleep last night,” K2 had scolded him as he steered the ship out of the Yavin IV hangar, early that morning. 

The droid was right, he hadn’t slept. He had waited for Cora to fall asleep, and then silently left her room. He had a mission to get ready for. He didn’t have to be up so early, no one expected him to leave the base at the break of dawn, but he did it anyway. He had become restless once again, grounded for too long with his mind getting louder and louder. 

Still he could have stayed a little longer. The fact that this thought had followed him as he went back to his room to shower and get ready, and it was still with him even as he scurried through the empty streets of Samarkand scared him. Usually, he couldn’t wait to get away from the person that had helped him take care of his physical needs, before they woke up and made things way more complicated than he was comfortable with; before shame took over him. And yet this time he had to force himself to leave her bed and get away. 

Because if he didn’t, what then? He’d have to tell her goodbye, and tell her that he’d be going on a mission, and he didn’t know when he’ll come back, if ever. And if he did come back, what then? Go on dates, start a relationship? Start a family?

He never allowed himself to think about having a family, not even in his wildest dreams fuelled by cheap alcohol and despair. He’d always known he’d die young, in the middle of a war, whether it would be this one or the next, or the one after. He’d lost hope there would ever be peace, for him at least. There were people for whom the fight never ended. There were others, like Bail Organa who had a family, raised a daughter, but there were also the ones that have been continuously fighting ever since the Clone Wars. He was one of those. He wasn’t sure what he’d do in times of peace anyway, since the only things he was good at were fighting and killing and lying. What would he do then, a career as a hitman? He snickered.

But he did find himself thinking about Cora more than he liked to admit. She was something safe to think about when he refused to let his mind wander to really dark places. But she wasn’t just a distraction. He liked thinking about her. He liked her. And she liked him back. And that was scary. Because no matter how much he thought about it, this story couldn’t have a happy ending. He couldn’t have a happy ending. And she deserved better. 

It was very hard sometimes to silence his mind when he was walking alone, in the darkness, with nothing to distract him. He had let K2-SO wait for daylight on the ship. It was much easier for him to cross the city when the other imperial droids were out in the light, instead of trying to sneak in the darkness. He was much too loud, Cassian always thought. However, the company would have done him good, help him focus on something else besides his thoughts. But he couldn’t risk K2’s safety just because he was scared of listening to his own mind. It was his fault the droid had been injured a while ago, and he couldn’t risk something like that happening again. 

The Alliance’s hideout and main office on Samarkand was currently located in an abandoned bar, in the basement of an old apartment building that had been bombed recently during the conflict with the Imperials. The whole building was a little shabby and could cave in on them at any moment, but it was the best they could find on short notice. It had to be big enough to house all the new recruits, easy to defend and not very obvious. With the main entrance blocked by debris, the only way to enter the hideout was through another building and the emergency stairwell, which wasn’t visible from the street. This way, they could come and go as they pleased without the fear of being spotted by the patrolling stormtroopers.

“Welcome back, Captain,” he was greeted by one of the new recruits, a burly man with a mane of black hair on his head. He was seated at one of the tables, an empty bottle of cheap liquor in front of him. 

“Glad to be back,” he replied, looking around. The whole place was eerily silent, with only a few people sitting at the tables, watching him intently. Some new faces, he noticed. “Where’s everyone else?” he asked, the feeling that something was wrong suddenly nagging him. He had been in contact with them a few hours before, right after leaving the Yavin IV base, but he didn’t contact them once he entered the orbit, so he wouldn’t risk giving his position away by using the short range communication system. It had been a mistake, he now noticed. 

“I don’t know,” the man replied. “That sergeant of yours said it was an emergency. They took off and left us here to guard the place.”

Cassian frowned. There was something fishy going on. His men would never leave the base guarded by so few people and certainly not only by newcomers. His hand rushed towards the blaster but it ended up being too late. His vision went black before he could register what was happening. 

When he woke up, the familiar dizziness of a stun gun making his head spin, he found himself on his knees, arms and legs bound together behind his back. He tried the handcuffs, but they proved to be pretty sturdy. He cursed himself for being captured so easily. 

“Well, well,” said the burly man -- he called himself Tev, Cassian recalled -- coming into his field of vision. He was flipping Cassian’s vibrodagger, one of his concealed weapons, in a gloved hand. “When we sent the others into an ambush a few hours ago we didn’t hope to catch the recruiter himself. I guess this is our lucky day. Or you’re dumber than everyone thinks you are,” he laughed and a few snickers and cheers erupted in the dark room. 

Cassian looked around. From what he could see, there were five people in the room, besides Tev: four of them looked like locals and weren’t fighters, he could tell from the careless way they played with the blasters, but one of them stood out. He hadn’t noticed him when he entered the room, so he assumed he was hiding in the shadows. He was probably the one that had tased him. He looked like a bounty hunter, Cassian thought. He was a large man, dressed in a dark cloak, a steely expression on his face. He wasn’t playing with his weapons, but neither did he look ready to shoot, a modified E-11 blaster rifle hanging from his belt. 

“So that’s what actually happened to them?” Cassian asked, checking his boot for his security kit. It wasn’t there, and neither were the other blades he had hidden in his clothes. The bounty hunter had thoroughly searched him, something he didn’t think the others would be capable of doing. “What do you have to gain from handing them over to the Empire?” He didn’t know if the Empire had ambushed them, but it was the safest bet.

“A comfortable life in the Empire. A well paying job in the military. And a few other little things that our friend here and his connections in the military were so kind to promise us.”

Cassian looked over to the bounty hunter. It wasn’t the first time the Empire had hired bounty hunters to do their dirty work. In this case it seemed to be pretty a pretty good idea: he knew better than some tight-arsed officer what to promise to these poor, miserable bastards for their cooperation. They were gullible and very easy to persuade into following you into battle if you promised them enough. He knew, after all he’d done the same thing. But then he went back to Yavin, the injury of his friend more important at that point than his mission. He had counted on the fact that everyone on this planet hated the Empire way too much to be tempted to join their ranks, but he had clearly been wrong. The less experienced recruiters that were left on the planet hadn’t seen the early signs of betrayal and had fallen into a trap. It was all his fault. 

“And you really think they’ll keep their promises? Your friend’s a bounty hunter, the kind of scum that only cares about the money, and the Empire doesn’t give two shits on people like you,” Cassian said, defiantly grinning into the man’s face.

“Shut up!” Tev yelled, coming closer and slapping Cassian’s face with the back of his hand. The familiar taste of blood filled his mouth and his vision blurred a little, but his teeth were still in place. “You’ll see, now that we can hand you over to them too, they’ll give us much more than that! They may even give us a shiny medal for getting rid of you.”

“Why don’t we kill him then?” one of the others asked, the greedy look in his eyes sending a cold shiver down Cassian’s spine. How did people like these end up in the Rebellion HQ?

“They said they want him alive,” Tev explained, looking a little irritated by the question. “It’s their problem what they do with him, we’ll still get our reward.”

“They won’t give you shit,” Cassian insisted, looking as smug and defiant as he could from his kneeling position, earning another slap from the man. 

Luck seemed to be on his side this time. The man was incredibly proud, something he had noticed ever since he had recruited him, and from his breath, the bottle of liquor didn’t drink itself. He had managed to easily get him angry and ranting. And angry meant stupid and not paying attention to what Cassian was doing. A lockpick very well hidden in the lining of his boot, that the idiots had overlooked, was all he needed to get his cuffs open, but he needed them to not pay attention to him. And Tev was doing a great job making a spectacle of himself, distracting even the bounty hunter long enough for Cassian to free himself. But he was still outnumbered and unarmed. 

He knew he had to take out the bounty hunter first. That would probably be the trickiest part. The others didn’t seem to be able to shoot straight and hit something even if it stood two meters in front of them, but he didn’t know how skilled the stranger was. He seemed rather smug, keeping his weapon holstered, meaning he didn’t consider Cassian to be an immediate threat. So he had to take him out fast, while he was still relaxed. 

The opportunity came when Tev approached Cassian once again, spitting some very nasty words in his face and poking his cheek with the vibrodagger. A sudden and well placed hit to his neck was all Cassian needed to break his windpipe and take the knife from his hand, as the former rebel clutched onto his neck. In a few seconds the blade was turned on and lodged into the bounty hunter’s gut, easily cutting through his flesh, severing his aorta. Blood was gushing everywhere, soaking their clothes. He tried to fight back, grabbing the blaster, but the only thing he could do was shoot Cassian in the thigh before he yanked the weapon from his dying hands.

With the blaster now in his possession, it was really easy to take the others out. He had been right, they didn’t really know how to use the blasters. They were probably just a bunch of cargo pilots working for the local mafia, just like Tev, looking for a better life. They may have been tough and resilient, but they weren’t fighters. He still had to shoot them all. 

He took back his blaster, his security kit and some other possessions that were crucial for his survival. The rest, he would have to replace at base, when he got there. He quickly searched the bounty hunter for anything of importance, but found nothing except a comm that he might have used to communicate with the Stormtroopers, who were probably on their way already. 

He hurried to the command room, a small chamber in which they had set out their equipment. It had been searched, but everything was operated in code so he doubted that they had found anything of value. Still, it couldn’t get into the hands of the Empire, since everything could be decoded with the right equipment and given enough time.

A rather cacophonous array of noises coming from the entrance let him know that the stormtroopers had arrived. A quick check on one of the surveillance monitors proved him right. He had intended to try and get hold of the others through the base’s short range com or find their location on the tracker, but it was too late now. There were too many stormtroopers to be able to take them all on his own, and they were approaching fast. 

Ever since they set their headquarters in the old building, they knew that there was always a possibility that it would one day be taken over by the enemy, so they were prepared for this scenario. The whole building was rigged with explosives, making sure that all their equipment would be unusable. 

Cassian punched in the code that armed the self destruct system, leaving him only 5 minutes to leave the building, before it collapsed on top of him. But with his leg wounded and hurting like hell and with the stormtroopers blocking the main exit, he wasn’t sure he would make it. He wasn’t even sure he wanted to. 

He knew this whole mess was his fault. He had overlooked some things, underestimated the enemy and put his own feelings above the mission. And now he just couldn’t see a way out. The headquarters was compromised, along with their weapons and supplies, their team was probably dead or captured, either way, there was no way he could save them. He’d have to live his whole life knowing that his stupidity had killed them. But he didn’t have to live...

They’d bury him a hero, he figured, even though they would know it was his fault. Still, no one would dare talk shit about him at his funeral. They only mentioned good things about you, like being dead suddenly made you a better person. 

It would be a short ceremony, everyone way too busy to waste too much time on the dead. Cora would probably cry and so would Lewella. The others would be better at hiding their grief and would later hold a toast in their secret meeting place in his memory, bringing out the best alcohol they had. K2 would probably take it the worst. He’d be lost for a while, but he’d find a purpose eventually. Maybe he’d even make new friends. They’d all move on and his memory would fade. He wondered if Cora would remember him over the years, when she’d be old and surrounded by grandchildren. If she’d ever tell them the story of the rebel that had kidnapped her from the Empire…

“Ah, fuck it…” he mumbled and limped towards the emergency exit. 

The emergency exit was a narrow shaft that had been once used for maintenance or supplies, Cassian didn’t know. They had installed a ladder, and made it as roomy as it could possibly get, but even without his wound it would still be pretty uncomfortable to go through. Cassian swore, but clenched his teeth and pushed on despite the pain. He wasn’t dying, not yet at least, so the pain shouldn’t be a hindrance. He could take it. He could make it out in time. The clock was ticking, though.

He was only a few meters away from the exit when the booming sound of the explosion filled the air. He hurried, crawling through the tight space as fast as he could, bruising his elbows and knees and scraping his hands. He was almost out the little opening in the exterior wall when the building started to collapse. 

Unfortunately, he didn’t make it out on time.


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's been a very very very long time since my last update, but at least it's a long chapter. Thank you all for having the patience, I hope you'll like it <3
> 
> The next chapter hopefully won't be that long, and hopefully I will write in a decent amount of time, but I can't promise anything. Work will be really busy and really stressful until early December, and I'm not sure I will have enough energy to write. But I will finish this, even if it takes longer than anticipated. So please don't give up on this story if I won't post anything for the next two months. I will do my best to write whenever I have the time and energy. There aren't that many chapters left of Starlight, and I hope you'll be with me until the end. Love you all. 
> 
> A million thanks to my lovely beta and ff soulmate, Llexeh and to Mesh, who haven't given up on me yet.
> 
> As always, feel free to send me messages on tumblr @joeybelle.

With only an hour or so left of her shift, Cora was eager to get everything done as fast as possible so she could get back to her room and call it a day, even if that meant going down to Storage to grab a few more supplies and restock the medical cabinets. At least, when Doctor Crane would take over the med bay, he’d find it fully stocked and functional. It was certainly something that could have been done by a droid, but she decided that taking a walk would do her good. If nothing else, she’d be out of the med bay for a while. It hadn’t been a particularly busy shift and even with some of the doctors still incapacitated by the flu, Cora had still somehow managed to get bored. 

The past couple of days had been really silent, with everyone away on missions, it left very few people on base to get sick. Cora only had to deal with some cases of the flu, mainly amongst the medical personnel, and the occasional hangover. However, around noon some of the wounded rebels started coming back to base. It seemed the conflict had become more violent and the confrontations more frequent than before. Cora was horrified by some of the stories she heard. This war looked so different now that she was on the other side of the barricade. 

Fortunately, none of the ones that came back until then was seriously injured. Nothing that couldn’t be fixed with a few bacta patches and a lot of bed rest. Which was a good thing, because it helped her put her mind at ease. Somehow, she kept expecting Cassian to be amongst them, badly injured, her anxious mind making her worry a lot more than was necessary. 

She hadn’t heard from him in a few days, ever since they spent the night together. She assumed he was still on Samarkand, taking care of business, but she had no way of knowing for sure. Melshi was away and Lewella wasn’t in touch with either of them when they were out on missions, so Cora had no choice but to hope he was ok and patiently (more or less) await his return.

Which wasn’t an easy feat. She quickly discovered that she wasn’t a very patient person, and certainly not a very composed one. In the past, it had been easy to appear calm when she had nothing to look forward to and every day was the same shit. She hated the nervousness that came with caring about someone, but she felt more alive right now than she had in years. And that was a good thing, at least according to Lewella. Cora wasn’t very convinced. 

Still, she did her best to temperate it as much as she could and not let it interfere with her work life. She found it was much easier to deal with the nervousness when she was doing something than when she was being inactive, so she made sure to fill all her time with whatever task was at hand. Like going down to Storage and grabbing some supplies instead of just staring out the med bay window, sighing like a lovestruck maiden. 

There was no rush, so after she got all the things she needed and spent a few minutes chatting with the personnel, she walked up as slowly as possible. The droids would call her if something happened, so there was no need to hurry. And that’s why, when she noticed that the door to the War Room was open and someone was yelling, she stopped to sneak a peak. 

She wasn’t surprised at all to find out that the one yelling was Draven—even if she hadn’t recognized his voice, she was always expecting to see Draven whenever anyone was screaming—but she was really taken aback when she recognized the one who was being yelled at: it was Cassian. He was standing at attention, his back turned to the door, but it was clearly him, Cora was sure of it. And yet his presence there was so unexpected and absurd, that she just stood in the doorway, dumbfounded. 

“It’s inexcusable,” the General yelled, his face a grimace of anger, something Cora was sure of even though she couldn’t see clearly, “that an officer with your experience could make such a mistake. Exposing yourself and the Alliance. Jeopardizing the mission. Putting your men’s lives at risk. Ruining one of our best hideouts. This is a major fiasco, Captain!” 

“I have no excuse,” Cassian replied, his voice sounding hollow and so devoid of any emotion that Cora almost didn’t recognize him. A cold shiver ran down her spine. 

“It’s something I didn’t expect from someone with your experience, Captain. Especially from you. I am very disappointed,” the General said, walking around his desk, his voice having turned somewhat softer, but Cora could still sense the underlying anger. Her heart was beating fast and she knew listening in wasn’t ethical, but she just couldn’t convince herself to leave, so she just took a step back, getting out of his line of sight. “Maybe you’re tired, and you need some time off,” he continued, his voice now even and composed, but still full of malice. “Maybe this war is finally getting to you, maybe you’re not as good as we thought you were,” he laughed, an almost dry laughter devoid of any humour, that made Cora’s skin crawl. “You should take some time off, before you get yourself and who knows how many others killed.” 

Cora took a few steps further away from the door, trying to compose herself. She was starting to get angry. Draven was insufferable on a good day, but until now it was only her who he had treated like shit, as far as she knew. Yes, everyone said he was a little too serious and short-tempered, but he had always been fair. This was far from being fair, and she had a feeling this ‘conversation’ had been going on for a while. She had never seen Draven calm down and stop yelling in less than half an hour. She didn’t know what Cassian had done wrong, but she knew him well enough to know that whatever it was, he certainly didn’t deserve the mocking tone Draven was using and the spite in his words. 

She edged closer to the open door, listening in once again. Luckily, there was no one in the corridor right now to see what she was doing, otherwise she’d have some explaining to do. The yelling had died down, but not the animosity. 

“You are hereby relieved of all of your duties, Captain. You will be replaced by someone else on Samarkand. You will stay on base until you will be needed again.” He sounded bitter.

“Yes, Sir!” Cassian’s automatic reply sent another shiver down Cora’s spine.

“Please head to the infirmary to get your wounds checked up, Captain. I wouldn’t want you dying from an infection or something.”

“Yes, Sir.”

Infirmary, shit! That’s where she was supposed to be and not eavesdropping, especially if it involved her superiors. She considered bolting, trying to not get caught, but she wasn’t very fast and there was nowhere to hide in the open space of the corridor. At least she hoped it would look like she was just passing the War Room on her way to the med bay, so she started walking away at an even pace, eyes glued to the floor. 

“Doctor,” she heard Cassian call her, before she managed to get away.

She stopped and turned around, swallowing hard. “Yes, Captain?” Her voice sounded pathetic she was sure of it. She wished she could hide the fact that she had overheard the conversation, but she was currently too flustered for that to even be an option. 

Cassian looked pretty ragged, that was the first thing she noticed. He seemed drained, his skin looking waxy, with big, dark circles under his eyes. Right off the bat she noticed the bacta patch precariously stuck to his forehead, the big, dark stain on his left thigh, that looked like dried blood, and the bandage on his right hand. Right above the edge of his collar she could see a few dark bruises, and Cora wondered how big they actually were. She’d soon find out. 

“Follow me,” she said, urging him to move. 

He obediently followed her to the med bay, while Cora tried to assess how much of him was broken. She really wanted to be happy that he was back and alive (for now), but it seemed like she didn’t worry for nothing. He had once again come back in a rather bad shape. The urge to yell at him was pretty strong, to try and get some self-preservations skills through his thick skull, but he had been yelled at enough for one day and from the way he silently followed her, looking like a lost puppy, he didn’t seem to be taking it very well. 

Cora guided him to a consultation room, one that was further back, giving them a little privacy, and dismissed the med droids. They beeped in frustration, but Cora ignored them. She would handle this on her own. 

“Scanner, please,” she told him, while she was washing her hands and putting on a pair of gloves. 

The full body scanner showed most of the damage, and Cora looked for signs of life threatening injuries first. He had a concussion and a pretty ugly laceration on his forehead, that was just starting to heal, but if it hadn’t killed him until now, she hoped it won’t do it in the future either. It looked like he remembered to smear some bacta on it from time to time, but it didn’t seem to have been a priority. She sighed. 

“How long ago did you sustain these injuries?” she asked, taking note of his broken arm (two metacarpal bones and the ulna in two places) and a superficial blaster wound on his left thigh. Apart from four cracked ribs, the rest were just bruises and a multitude of scrapes and scratches. For the first time the idea of shoving him whole in a bacta tank seemed feasible.

“Two days ago,” he answered, a little uncertain. “I think.”

Cora raised an eyebrow. “Any cases of memory loss, blackouts, double vision?” He denied it, but she wasn’t very convinced so she shone a light into his eyes just to make sure. “Dizziness, sluggishness, anything of sorts?” she pressed on. 

“Yes,” he said, stepping away from the scanner. “Sometimes. Not very often, though.”

Sometimes. Cora was amazed by his need to try and diminish the gravity of his wounds. She imagined that even on his deathbed he’d just dismiss it as ‘it’s just a scratch, I’ve had worse’. 

“Well, you’re not dying,” Cora concluded, and tried hard not to add ‘yet’ and make it sound ominous, “but you’re not looking too good either.” She sighed. “But I guess that comes as no surprise.”

“No.”

“Alright, take everything off and hop on the table. You’ll be as good as new when I finish. Almost.” She was using a lighter tone, a fake lightheartedness, trying to hide that she was in fact a little shaken. She couldn’t be completely collected and professional when Cassian was the one who was hurt. 

“Everything?” he asked, and any other time she might have taken it for flirting, but he sounded so distant that Cora felt a little taken aback. 

“No, just enough for me to be able to get to your wounds. Whatever you’re comfortable with,” she added. “I’ll fetch you a hospital gown.”

“It isn’t necessary,” he said, stopping her before she could take another step. “It’s fine.” 

He stripped down to his boxers and laid on the table. Cora looked away while he was taking his clothes off, making herself busy with some equipment, even though there was nothing she hadn’t seen before, nothing that she hadn’t touched or kissed. But it felt like there was a rift between them right now, and they were back to strictly being doctor and patient. Not secret lovers, maybe not even friends. It showed how frail the connection between them was. 

She hooked him to an IV, then checked his head first. The scanner had showed that it was the most serious injury. Her hands were shaking slightly, an almost imperceptible movement that revealed her inner turmoil. She couldn’t be calm, not after what she’d heard and not after she’d seen Cassian alive, but hurt. He wasn’t dying, she tried reminding herself, she’d seen him injured like this before. But she didn’t have feelings for him then, and feelings were making her anxiety levels go through the roof. However, she didn’t let it stop her from doing her job properly. 

Hidden under the bacta patch was a deep gash that went from his forehead to the top of his head and was already healing. It would leave an ugly scar if she left it like that, so she cleaned the wound, straightened its edges and then carefully stitched it. Cassian was a good patient, as always if you managed to get him on the table, silent and unmoving, but this time Cora found the silence surprisingly heavy. 

“So, Captain, how did you get this whole buffet of injuries?” she asked, moving onto the wound on his leg, once his head had been taken care of. There was a damp, dirty bandage tightly wrapped around it, and blood had seeped through it. It looked like it had been dressed in a hurry and not cared for properly. By the looks of it, he had probably showered with it on, not bothering to change it afterwards. It was a plain bandage, no bacta, no trace of any medication. She cut through it and noticed that the wound had gotten infected. “Or is that classified information?”

For a moment he didn’t reply, and Cora wondered if he was just going to ignore her. 

“I got caught in a wreckage. There was an explosion, and I got caught under some rubble,” came the unexpected explanation, and Cora’s eyes widened. She stopped working for a few moments, just staring dumbly at him, and it must have been a pretty comical sight because Cassian snickered. It was the first time that evening that he showed any sort of emotion. 

“You survived an explosion with only these injuries?” she asked, blinking like an owl caught in the headlights. “You’re one lucky bastard,” she muttered, going back to cleaning his wound. Right now she was sure she shouldn’t have asked. She didn’t need to know what dangers he was facing. It was enough that she was imagining the worst possible, she didn’t need the certainty if she ever wanted to sleep at night. 

She cleaned and bandaged his wound. Honestly, it looked like it had been made by a blaster, and not by an explosion, but she decided not to ask. She assumed the whole thing had actually been a lot worse than he was telling her, but she didn’t need to know. Ignorance is bliss, she thought. She should be thankful that, against all odds, he was still alive. 

“How do you do it?” she asked, once his leg was properly bandaged, moving on to his broken hand. It was secured with two wooden splints, but by the looks of it, he had still used it and didn’t let it rest. Luckily, the bones were still in place, so it didn’t require surgery. 

“How do I do what?” he asked, opening his eyes and moving his head slightly to look at her. 

“How are you able to put yourself in danger like that. Almost getting killed, and then going back like nothing ever happened,” she said, not looking him in the eye. He was still looking at her, she could see it in the corner of her eye, but she wasn’t able to read anything in his blank expression. “Aren’t you ever afraid?”

He let out a long breath. “You get used to it, I guess.”

“How do you get used to the possibility that you might die at any moment? That every mistake can lead to your death?” She asked looking at him with a quirked eyebrow. To her surprise he was smiling. A tiny smile, in the corner of his mouth, but a smile nonetheless. 

“We all die at some point. It will happen no matter what you do. Once you get used to that thought, it becomes less frightening.” He let out another deep breath and closed his eyes, relaxing once again. “Life is fleeting. I think you know that better than anyone. You’re more accustomed to death than any of us.” 

“It’s not me that’s dying,” she muttered, going back to work. She could feel the selfishness in her own words, but it was the truth: she wasn’t the one dying. And she always felt that as long as she wasn’t the one in danger of losing her life, she had nothing to be scared of. But she realized how wrong she had been, because right now she had his life to worry about. 

“Isn’t that worse? Having other people’s lives in your hands, not knowing if you’ll be able to save them or not?”

She smiled, but didn’t look up. “You get used to it, I guess.”

They were silent after that, but it wasn’t as heavy as before. Cassian’s timid smiles had assured her that he was still human and still capable of showing emotion. It would be alright, she told herself, and wondered if he didn’t need to hear those words too. Still, she didn’t want to reveal that she had overheard Draven’s rant. For now, and maybe for ever, they would just pretend it didn’t happen. 

For the rest of his wounds, there wasn’t much she could do, besides disinfect the cuts and smear them in a generous amount of bacta. Even though she could tell he had showered recently, there were still traces of thick, grey dust in places that were hard to reach for someone with a broken arm and a few cracked ribs. She wiped them down with a disinfecting towel. It was an intimate gesture, at least for her. To him, it probably seemed like she was simply just doing her job, but she could have just asked a med droid to spray him with bacta and finish in five minutes what took her almost half an hour to achieve. However, she wanted to make sure that every cut and bruise was cleaned and properly taken care of, because this wasn’t just a random patient, this was a man she deeply cared about.

“You’re all done,” she said, placing the bacta tube on the tray and taking her gloves off. She had done a great job smearing bacta gel on every visible bruise and cut, so Cassian was all shiny and slimy, just like a human shaped slug. She tried hard to stifle a laugh. “I’m going to get you an IV sleeve and you’re going to keep it on tonight. I’m giving you some mild antibiotics for your leg wound and some painkillers to help you sleep. Please leave the bacta on until tomorrow morning, it will smear all over your sheets, but it’s easily washable,” she said, preparing the medication cocktail. “If you feel your condition worsening, please come to the med bay ASAP.”

“Wait, you’re letting me go?” he asked, trying to put on his shirt, but flinching when he lifted his arms. 

Cora got up to help him. “I should keep you here,” she said, pulling the shirt over his head, “but I have a feeling we’d just argue about it for fifteen minutes and you’d be out the door the moment I turn my back to you anyway.” He smiled, and Cora couldn’t help but run her fingers through his hair, trying to straighten it a little, careful not to touch his stitches. “But please, try to stay in bed and not go anywhere this time,” she begged. 

In the blink of an eye his mood changed, the smile turning into a frown once again. “It’s not like I have anywhere to go anyway,” he said, putting on the rest of his clothes. He was once again avoiding her gaze, so Cora left him alone and went back to prepping the IV.

“There you go,” she said once the sleeve was fixed in place over his left forearm, the one that wasn’t broken. “Keep it in place tonight and come for a checkup tomorrow. I have a day off, but if you come early enough you’ll still catch Doctor Crane. If not, Lew’s manning the ER tomorrow. Try not to die,” she added and wanted to pat his shoulder, but remembered the damage that was underneath his clothes so she took a step back, afraid not to hurt him. Even breathing on him seemed dangerous. 

“I will. Thank you, Doctor.” There was a brief, tense moment between them, as they silently looked into eachother's eyes clearly wanting to say something else, but maybe both being too afraid to actually go on and say it. So the moment passed and he was out the door. 

“Good evening, Captain,” Doctor Crane greeted him from the main area of the med bay. He was putting away the supplies that Cora had brought from Storage—and completely forgotten about. “It’s good to see you back in one piece. Although, if you’re visiting us I assume that piece is at least a little broken,” he said, scanning Cassian over his reading glasses. 

“I’ll be fine, I just need to rest,” Cassian said, the phrase sounding once again like something that came out of reflex. The doctor nodded, like he knew exactly what that meant. He probably did, he had known Cassian for a long time. 

He suddenly seemed very eager to leave, fidgeting nervously and eyeing the door, so Cora decided to end his misery. She told him once again to come for a check-up in the morning and to move as little as possible, giving his body time to heal, and he nodded, but she wasn’t sure he had listened to any of the words she said. Finally, they said goodbye and he was gone.

“Do you think it’s wise letting him go?” the doctor asked, going back to sorting the supplies. 

“Honestly, I don’t know,” she said, crossing her arms. “I hope I didn’t make a mistake, but he’s had a bad day already, I didn’t want to make it worse.”

“Yes, I’ve heard.”

Cora looked at the doctor. She wondered if he knew about it because they’d discussed in the Council, or he just knew it like he seemed to know everything that happened on base. 

“I’ve put a monitor sensor in his sleeve, It should beep it anything happens.”

“Good, good. I’ll keep an eye on him. You get changed and get out of here, your shift ended half an hour ago.”

Cora quietly did as she was told, not offering to do overtime like she would have done any other day. She wasn’t particularly tired—or at least, she shouldn’t have been after a pretty easy shift—but she needed rest. She needed to just lay in bed with all the lights off and try not to think about anything for a while. She had brooded enough and even though she was still worrying about Cassian she had to stop: he was fine, he would be fine. And if anything happened, she was close enough to do something about it. There was no need to feel so powerless. But her brain just refused to understand that.

It was still pretty early (by her standards), so she stopped by the mess hall on her way downstairs. There wasn’t much food left, but she managed to put together a filling sandwich. That, and a cup of warm, milky tea left her full and content. After a quick shower she assumed she’d immediately fall asleep, but it seemed that even if her mind was tired her body wasn’t, so she wrapped herself in blankets, but couldn’t fall asleep to save her life. She laid still for a while, enjoying the relaxing feeling of being in her own bed, but then, when sleep just refused to come she started tossing and turning until the frustration became too much. She threw the blankets off of her and got up. 

“This is so shit,” she told Ben, who probably agreed with her from his dimly lit tank. 

She went to the bathroom and washed her face then came back and poured herself a glass of water. She sat at her desk and looked around. There wasn’t much to do to occupy her time. There were a handful of books on a shelf, but she’d already read and reread them whenever nightmares were tormenting her so she almost knew them by heart. There were no reports for her to do, no paperwork, nothing. She didn’t really spend time her room, coming home only to sleep, shower and change her clothes, so she never really bothered to fill it with too many things. Except for cushions. She had a lot of cushions. 

After about ten minutes of silent pondering she decided she’d have to get dressed and get out of there. Probably go back to work, since she didn’t have many friends besides her colleagues and no one else would be up at that hour anyway. Maybe she’d go to the ER and help whomever was working the night shift. At least there she would have company and something to do until her body would be tired enough and her mind ready to switch off. 

But right after she got up the chair and headed for the closet, she heard a light tapping on the door. The sense of deja-vu was overwhelming as she opened the door to reveal Cassian leaning on her doorframe. 

“Hello,” she said, smiling at him. “Come here often?” He was cheekily smiling back and looked undoubtedly more alive than he did a couple of hours back, so she assumed the treatment was working. 

“Often enough,” he said, and Cora moved away from the door, inviting him in.

“Why aren’t you in bed?” she asked, placing her hands around his neck once the automatic door closed behind him. He might have been feeling a little better thanks to the drugs, but he was far from being healed, and Cora wasn’t going to ignore his wounds just because he wasn’t looking like the walking dead anymore. He snaked his arms around her waist and pulled her closer, totally disregarding his broken ribs. Cora flinched at the contact, imagining the pain, but quickly relaxed into his embrace.

“I couldn’t sleep,” he mumbled and placed a chaste kiss on her lips. The simplicity and ease of the gesture showed a familiarity Cora wasn’t used to, but she wasn’t complaining. 

“Do you want me to give you a sedative?” she offered, pointing towards the medical cabinet in the corner, her duty as a medic taking over for a second. “It would help you get some sleep. I can also get you some more painkillers if you want.” It was a good thing that Cassian didn’t seem surprised that she was hoarding painkillers and sedatives in her room. 

He sighed, and feeling that she was trying to wiggle away from his embrace, pulled her closer and held her tightly. “I’m not here to see a doctor.”

“Too bad, cause you’re looking at one,” she said, affectionately brushing a strand of hair from his forehead.

“But you’re off duty.” There was a not so well hidden plea in his voice and she felt a little bad for him, so she gave him a quick peck on the lips. However, his safety was still more important than his feelings.

“Not until you’re fully healed,” she argued, pointing a finger at his nose. He responded by taking her hand in his and kissing the soft skin on her wrist. “You’re not getting away that easily.” She tried resisting his charm, she really did try, but he was looking at her with his beautiful brown eyes and she felt like she was slowly losing her resolve. 

She gave up for now, knowing how stubborn he could be sometimes and not wanting to turn this into a full blown argument. Instead, she carefully placed her hands on his chest and leaned in for a kiss. Kissing him felt so good, melting away all her worries, the anxiety of the past few days disappearing slowly as a tingling sensation in the pit of her stomach grew. She knew it was just a temporary feeling, but she was happy that he was ok and in her arms again. 

“You know,” she said after a while, reluctantly breaking the kiss, “that you’re not cleared for any physical activity, right? That, unfortunately, includes sex.”

He looked bewildered for a couple of seconds, but then he regained control of his face. “I’m willing to take that risk,” he said, and with a determined look on his face cupped her cheeks and pressed his lips to hers once again, this time with even more eagerness.

“But what if you die?” She giggled, trying to escape his lips, but he was persistent. She may have made it seem like a joke, but there was a real possibility that he could die. Ok, maybe she was exaggerating with the dying, but it would certainly delay the healing by a few days or maybe even weeks.

“It will be worth it.” He sneaked his hands under her top, making her gasp at the sudden contact. “Isn’t that the best way to go?”

“Maybe,” she laughed. “But seriously now,” she said, gently removing his hands from her skin, suddenly hyper aware of his broken arm, the cast feeling cold and unnatural in the palm of her hand. “For your safety and my peace of mind, I can’t let you do this. I’m sorry, I know you’re feeling ok right now,” she added, noticing his disappointed expression, “but you have to be careful with that concussion. And all the rest. Plus, doesn’t everything hurt, how can you even think of sex in your condition?”

“It’s a distraction.” He shrugged and Cora felt really sympathetic for him. She assumed it wasn’t just a distraction for the pain, in fact it could very well add to it, but for the shitty day he must have had. She could still see a shadow on his face whenever he wasn’t actively smiling and even though he seemed to be ok, joking and enjoying her company, Cora didn’t think he was completely over it. He had this air of ‘abandoned puppy’ that made her heart melt. 

She was so weak, though, she thought, accepting her defeat with a smile. “A compromise could be made,” she offered, letting her hands graze over his chest and eventually fall to his belt buckle, still a little unsure if this was a good idea, but whatever, if she was going to kill him at least he’d die happy. “But we still have a problem.”

“And that is?” he asked, and as she let go of his hands they went back under her top, caressing as much skin he could reach. Cora leaned into his touch, his hands on her skin feeling like they belonged there. 

“You have a monitor sensor in your IV sleeve,” she said, sucking in a sharp breath when his lips ghosted over the skin on her neck and his one good hand went down from her waist and started feeling her ass through the thin material of her slacks. It took some self control not to shove him on her bed and fuck him senseless, breaking a few more ribs in the process and god knows what else. It didn’t help that apart from worrying about him for the past few days she had also been lusting for his touch whenever she was alone and allowed herself to think about the times they had spent together. Fortunately, this time the worry for his wellbeing managed to overpower arousal. “If your heart rate goes up past a certain level it will set off an alarm. Doctor Crane promised he’ll keep an eye on you.”

“Then take it off,” he stated, like it was the most obvious thing in the world, too busy nibbling at her skin to share her concerns. 

“Well, that will set off another alarm, because the monitor will think your heart has stopped,” she explained. “And we’ll end up with Doctor Crane at my doorstep.”

“Don’t you worry about that. He won’t come,” he said, but Cora tensed up only thinking about it. She’d have a lot of explaining to do. Cassian sensed it and took a step back, looking at her, eyebrow raised. “He’s seen me walk away so I’m pretty sure he won’t think I’ve died.”

“He’s seen you walk away and did nothing to stop you?” It was Cora’s turn to raise an eyebrow. 

“Why would he stop me?” He seemed genuinely puzzled. “Listen, Cora, he’s known me for years, and he knows that the moment I feel something’s wrong I’ll come to see him. I’m not that stupid. It isn’t just luck that has kept me alive all these years.” 

“I highly doubt that,” she said under her breath.

“You’re the only one that worries that much.” 

“Doubt that too,” she remarked. “But how could I not worry when you’re injured more than you’re not? You were bleeding when I first met you and it feels like this has been a leitmotif ever since.” She sighed and looked down. It wasn’t his fault, after all. Or perhaps it was, but it wasn’t like he was getting injured on purpose, that’s just how his life was. Being hurt and risking his life was an integral part of his job. And who was she to demand that he change anything about it.

She felt his arms circle her shoulders, but this time it was a gentle embrace, devoid of the lust that had guided his hands until then. “I’m sorry,” he said kissing the top of her head, his voice almost a whisper. “I don’t want you to worry about me.”

Cora nodded and rested her head on his shoulder. She could feel his heartbeat underneath her fingers, a faint, comforting sound. It was peaceful, standing embraced like that, it almost seemed like time had stopped. She inched one of her hands underneath his shirt, letting her fingers softly graze over the skin on his abdomen. She could feel the scratches and she remembered where every bruise was, after all she had covered them all in bacta… And wait a second.

“You showered,” she said, and it felt like the cross between a question and an accusation.

“Yes,” he answered, his face scrunched in confusion. “Was I supposed not to?”

“I specifically told you twice to leave the bacta on until morning. And the first thing you do is go back to your room and shower?” She had taken a step back and was now frowning, arms crossed and almost tapping her foot on the floor. Cassian looked both confused and incredibly guilty. He’d either forgotten, didn’t listen to her when she said it, or plain didn’t care. She sighed audibly. “Do you do this on purpose?”

“Of course not,” he said, but his voice didn’t inspire much trust. “It just felt slimy and it was getting everywhere.”

“And it was also healing your broken bones.” She headed over to the medical cabinet and pulled out an industrial sized jar of bacta. “Clothes off, I’m gonna apply a new layer,” she instructed in the same tone she used with her most stubborn patients.

She expected to hear him protest, but instead he chuckled. “All of them?” he asked, and Cora noticed that this time the words contained the allusion she had been expecting. He was smirking, that crooked smile she had grown so fond of, looking at her with heavy lidded eyes. 

“Well, I don’t know, Captain,” she said, throwing the unopened jar on her bed, coming near him once again. “Depends how much you are comfortable with taking off.” She teasingly moved a finger down his neck and over that patch of hair that could be seen above his open collar. 

He smirked so she kissed him and snaked her fingers under his shirt, pulling it up. He lifted up his arms, letting her undress him. He was still bruised, angry purple and blue colouring his skin. She gently kissed along his collarbone, the smell of bacta still lingering on his skin despite the shower, before unbuckling his belt and letting his trousers fall to the floor. 

“Please take a seat, Captain.” 

He obediently did as he was told and sat on her bed. Taking advantage of the difference in height, he lifted her top left a trail of soft, wet kisses on her abdomen, right above the waistband of her trousers. Cora shivered, his hot lips feeling like electricity on her skin. She ran her fingers through his hair, making sure not to touch the area she had stitched a few hours back. She let her hands fall to his shoulders and gently pushed him on the bed, straddling his hips, careful not to sit too heavily on him. 

He looked somewhat vulnerable, laying on her bed like that, underneath her. His face was serene save for that lustful glint in his eyes. He was smiling, and this time it wasn’t a smirk or a cocky grin, but a genuine smile. No, she realized, not vulnerable, but open. He wasn’t his usual guarded self. The mask seemed to be off for now. 

“Right,” she said, making up her mind. “Let’s take off that sleeve for now.”

“Are you sure?” he asked, placing a hand on her waist.

“No, but I figured that you might die anyway and I’d regret missing the opportunity to kill you myself,” she said, grabbing his arm and unfastening the sleeve. “I may go to jail for it, but you said so yourself, it will be worth it.”

He laughed. “That’s not what I asked.”

Cora leaned down and kissed him, a long and languid kiss, making sure he knew that she wanted him just as much as he did. Because she really did want him, even though her mind was sometimes too busy worrying to let her enjoy herself. 

“Yeah.” She smiled, pointing at the bacta jar. “But only if you promise you’ll let me apply that later.”

“Can’t we just skip that?” he groaned.

“No.” 

“But it will make a mess.” 

“Yes. But your broken ribs will thank me,” she said, brushing her fingers over his bruises in a loving manner. His hands were on her thighs, massaging her skin and making sure she was actually sitting on his lap and not hovering above him. She giggled at his persistence, but he sat up and snaked his hands under her top, pulling it over her head. Now, the nakedness in the room was somewhat balanced. 

“I thought I told you to lay down,” she said, sucking in a breath as he kissed down her chest. 

“Mhm,” he mumbled, more preoccupied with her now fully exposed breasts than with whatever she was saying. And as he took a nipple into his mouth and started gently circling it with his tongue, she started caring a lot less too. She let herself get lost in the moment, enjoying the sensations of him caressing her skin, her worries completely forgotten for a little while.

She eventually managed to push him back onto the bed, their lips locked into a rough kiss. She pinned his hands on the bed, still thinking that he was moving way too much for his own good. He didn’t fight back, instead let her take the lead. She kissed along his jaw, following his sharp features, and went down down his neck. For a moment she considered giving him a hickey as revenge for the whole mess that he wasn’t responsible for and certainly not aware of, but then changed her mind. 

She left a trail of wet kisses on his collarbone before she ghosted over his chest, lingering for a moment on the spot where she could feel his heartbeat. His breaths were becoming shorter with every kiss and she could see a blush starting to creep over his cheeks. 

He was already rock hard when she pulled down his boxers. Cora licked her lips in anticipation and passed her fingers over his length, stroking lightly. His skin felt hot and velvety, veins protruding slightly. She was yearning to feel him inside her, to let him take her completely until she couldn't think straight anymore, but she knew it wouldn't happen tonight. For now, his pleasure would have to be enough. She eagerly massaged him, keeping a steady rhythm until she could feel him starting to roll his hips, meeting her movements.

Cassian let out a shaky breath when she took him into her mouth, wrapping her lips around him and swirling her tongue around the head. There was a distinct taste of bacta on his skin and she had too agree with him: the bacta had indeed gone everywhere. She smiled focused on his head for a while, gently sucking and licking, applying pressure on the spots she knew would bring him pleasure, before sliding down his shaft. She couldn't take him all into her mouth, her gag reflex stopping her, but she covered the rest with her hand.

Cassian had his eyes closed, breathing heavily. He had grabbed a fistful of her hair, but never tried to push her head down, letting her set the rhythm. Cora was thankful for that, there were few things she hated more than someone trying to forcefully shove their dick down her throat. Bobbing her head up and down she increased the speed, until she knew he was close.

He came with a gasp, his whole body tensing up for a moment then relaxing back into the bed. When Cora got up and looked at him, he was smiling dumbly at her, his gaze a little unfocused and his hair sticking up funny. He didn’t look livid anymore, his cheeks having gained a rosy blush, but Cora couldn’t be sure that he wasn’t still in a lot of pain. Or maybe the euphoria of the moment had dulled the pain for the time being.

She smiled back and pulled her shirt back over her head, then fished the bacta jar from her bed, unscrewing its lid. 

“Wait,” he said, trying to get up, but Cora gently pushed him back down. “Don’t you want me to at least return the favour?”

“I’d rather you owed me,” she said and kissed him. He frowned, like he didn’t get her reasoning. “I wouldn’t want you half assing it just because you’re currently dying. I want the full package, premium quality, VIP treatment.” He laughed and it seemed like it was the first time that night when it had any happiness in it. “It’s going to be cold, so brace yourself,” she said, scooping a generous glob of bacta. Cassian looked at it with mild disgust, but Cora ignored him. He might be a five year old and act accordingly, but he was on her turf and he was going to abide by her rules. 

He flinched a little when the cool gel touched his still burning skin, but relaxed shortly after. It wasn’t that unpleasant, Cora thought. Without the impersonal material that made up her surgical gloves that usually separated her hands from his skin, it was somehow more intimate. She didn’t feel like she was just a doctor in that moment, but rather a friend (or a lover) helping the one they cared about. 

Cassian didn’t seem to be too uncomfortable either. He looked half asleep, comfortably nested into her pillows. She made sure to cover every bruise and scratch, running her fingers over the areas she knew must have hurt like hell. When she finally finished, she rested her bacta smeared fingers on his lower abdomen and laid on the bed next to him. 

“I wonder if anyone has ever used bacta as lube,” she asked out of the blue and Cassian laughed, a hearty laugh that she hadn’t heard in a while. 

“I have no idea. But we could give it a try,” he said, taking it as an invitation and trying to get up once again, but Cora didn’t let him.

“Maybe another time,” she said, rubbing her fingers together, feeling the sticky, oily substance covering them. “When you’re not out of order,” she joked, kissing his cheek. He pretended to look hurt, but then pulled her closer, making sure that no matter how much she squirmed, her cheek landed on his bacta smeared chest. She retaliated by rubbing her bacta smeared fingers into his beard because her mental age was around five years as well. Luckily, he caught her hand in his, entangling their fingers together, before it turned into a full blown Bacta War.

“Wait!” She suddenly got up, wiping her cheek on her shirt. “The sleeve,” she remembered, and grabbed it from where she had thrown it on the bed, also fishing the still open bacta jar in the process and placing it on the nightstand before it leaked more goo on her bed.

“Is it really necessary?” Cassian asked, but still extended his arm for her to put it back on. “I mean I think you’d notice if I died.”

“Mhm, it still has to pump some medication into you,” she said, fastening it to his arm, then turned off the lights. “Try to get some sleep,” she said, inching closer to him and landing with her face exactly into a wet stain of bacta on her pillow. This was her life now, she thought, as Cassian put an arm over her waist, living in a nest made of blankets, entwined limbs and mucus.

She was happy.

 

*

 

He wasn’t sure if he had actually fallen asleep or not. He seemed to keep slipping in and out of consciousness, but it didn’t come with the relief of actual sleep. Whatever was in his IV was making his mind hazy, but it wasn’t enough to silence it long enough for him to be able to fall asleep. It certainly wasn’t enough to stop the burning pain in his thigh or the dull ache of his broken bones. The sedative that Cora had offered him was getting more and more enticing with each passing minute, but she was sound asleep and he didn’t want to wake her up.

She had crawled at the edge of the bed, curled into a fetal position, as far away from him as possible as if she was unconsciously trying not to roll over and hurt him. He smiled to himself and placed a hand on her back. He could feel her even breathing and her steady heartbeat as he idly moved his hand up and down her spine. 

It was funny, he thought, how the searing hatred she had for him only a few months ago had dissipated in such a short time and now she was taking care of him. She wasn’t the only one—he wasn’t that ungrateful to the others that really cared for him as to not acknowledge them—but she was the only one that seemed set to do it even against his will, if necessary. She seemed intend to tie him up and beat him down and heal him if that was the only way. And even if he was complaining, and truth be told, he was complaining a lot, he didn’t really mind. He liked that someone was willing to fight for him, even if he was the one they had to fight most of the time. On his good days it made him feel special, it made him feel worthy.

But today was not a good day, and no amount of loving could cover his shame and disgust. He had fucked up, and it was a pretty big deal. And an even bigger deal because Captain Cassian Andor was the one responsible for the fiasco.

He placed an arm over his eyes, to try and block the dim light that was coming out of Cora’s terrarium. His head was throbbing and there were colourful lights playing behind his closed lids. He had ignored his injuries for the past couple of days, pushed himself almost to the limit, and now it was coming to bite him in the ass. Nothing save for a strong sedative could help him sleep.

The last time he had gotten some shut-eye, if he could even call it that, had been on Samarkand, right after the explosion. 

He was woken up by someone calling his name, trying to pull him out of the encompassing darkness that seemed to suffocate him. He had to make an effort to open his eyes, the world around him spinning rapidly. His stomach contracted painfully and he grimaced, trying not to retch. It had taken him a few moments, taking in shallow breaths while his ribs felt like they were on fire, until he was finally able to focus and become aware of his surroundings. He was lying on a bed, in a house he didn’t recognize. Still on Samarkand, by the looks of it.

“Thank the Lord you’re still alive,” said the young man standing beside his bed, letting out a sigh of relief. “We feared the worst.”

Cassian wasn’t dead, and that came as a surprise. The last thing he remembered was the building starting to crumble on top of him. He was sure all that weight must have crushed him to death. So he was pleasantly surprised to still be alive. The pain was no surprise, though. 

“What happened? How long have I been out?” he asked, making an effort to stand up. The young man, who he recognized to be Sergeant Aasher, helped him in a sitting position. His whole body hurt like hell, and he wondered how much of him was broken. Nothing important, he hoped. His thigh was tightly bandaged, and so was his right arm up to his elbow. By the sharp pain that followed when he tried to move it, he assumed that at least that was broken. He’d have to work around it. At least he was alive.

“I don’t know for sure, about half an hour I guess. Our next door neighbours saw you in the street, under a pile of debris and pulled you out before the stormtroopers arrived.” The kid smiled. 

So he had somehow managed to get out of the tunnel before the building collapsed. Either he had crawled out and didn’t remember, or the blow of the explosion pushed him out. Whatever the case, he had been incredibly lucky. 

“There’s a whole lot of people out in the streets right now,” the kid said, looking worried. “It’s a good thing they assume nobody survived the blast, so they’re not looking for you yet.”

“Speaking of surviving,” Cassian asked, holding onto his aching ribs, his lungs feeling like burning with every breath he took, “how did you survive the ambush?” 

Sergeant Aasher was only a year younger than Cassian, but since he had joined the army just two years back, he still considered him a kid. A smart kid, but a kid nonetheless. He used to be a farm boy before the stormtroopers killed his parents and burned down his house. They left him with nothing. But he survived and joined the Rebellion later that year. Everyone was pretty impressed with how quickly he climbed the ranks.

“We were lucky I guess,” he said and Cassian could feel the shame in his tone. “We fell too easily into Tev’s trap. Now that I think about it, it was so obvious, but in that moment I didn’t think, I heard emergency, I acted. Like an idiot.” He couldn’t look Cassian in the eye, instead he was staring at the wall in front of him. Cassian cursed himself for leaving them on their own when they were clearly unprepared for this. “I think he took advantage of the fact that we were very few left in this base, with Zaid and the rest up north, it only left a dozen people here.” He sighed, and looked at his hands. “One of our scouts noticed something was wrong,” he continued. “We had time to avoid getting ambushed and we got off with only some minor injuries. But we could have walked right into the trap like a bunch of idiots.”

“Don’t beat yourself too much about it,” Cassian told him, smiling despite the pain. He was relieved. They had handled the situation way better than he expected. He imagined at least half of them would end up killed and the rest captured. After all, most of them were rookies. “Where are the rest?” he asked.

“We managed to get in touch with K2-SO after we got away. The wounded are on the ship getting first aid, the rest are keeping an eye on the area. That’s how we found you.” He smiled a tiny, unsecure smile, that disappeared in the blink of an eye.

“You did a good job, Sergeant,” Cassian said, making an effort to get up the bed. His vision blurred once again and his head started throbbing with renewed intensity. He noticed a bandage was wrapped around his forehead and wondered what the damage was underneath it. Cora would kill him once he got back on base, and the thought made him smile. 

Sergeant Aasher shook his head. “It’s all my fault, I shouldn’t have fallen so easily into the trap,” he lamented, looking completely demoralized once again, but making an effort to regain his composure. “We thought you had been killed. What happened inside, Captain?” 

Cassian explained, omitting some of the details, watching the kid’s expression become more grim with each passing minute. He was blaming himself, he could easily tell, even though it wasn’t really his fault. Or at least, not entirely. Cassian tried encouraging him, but his long face stayed unchanged. 

“I fucked up. I let those guys join, I didn’t think they would sell us,” the Sergeant said, passing a hand over his face.

“Yeah, but I let Tev in, and I would have probably let the others join too.” He was lying, they were way too sleazy to be trustworthy, and he would have noticed Tev’s behaviour if he had spent more time around him, but there was no reason to make the kid more uncomfortable than he already was. Everyone makes mistakes, that’s how you learn. Even Cassian. And he had enough power that his mistakes had the potential to take lives. “There’s no need to think too much about it right now,” he said, patting his shoulder. “Let’s go find the others and regroup. And thank these people for their help.”

Cassian knew, as he watched the stormtroopers swarm in the street, that he had really fucked up this time. They hadn’t lost any people, fortunately, but they had been close. Too close. They had lost an outpost, something really valuable on that crowded planet, a quite significant part of their supplies and equipment, and more importantly, he might have lost his cover. His whole job relied on the fact that he could pass unseen and unrecognized by the enemies, and right now he didn’t know how much they had found out. His name? His face, his general description? Would his face soon show up on a ‘most wanted’ poster? If his cover had been compromised, he was as good as dead for the Rebellion. Just another soldier. Worthless.

But he didn’t have time to worry about it. He had to try and fix whatever he could, make sure everyone was safe and then call the base and tell them the bad news. 

And so he did, and for the next two days he didn’t sleep, didn’t eat but made sure everyone was relocated to another base. He kept an eye on the Stormtroopers to make sure they hadn’t gotten anything useful from the wreckage, and luckily they didn’t. 

When he was recalled back to the Yavin Base, he knew what was coming. Because of him the Empire knew now that the Rebels had a lot more influence on Samarkand than they had previously thought, so now it would be a lot harder for them to recruit new people and oppose the imperial forces. 

Cassian cringed just thinking of his conversation with Draven. It wasn’t the first time he had been yelled at, and it wasn’t even the first time Draven was the one yelling, but still he wasn’t able to brush it off like he usually did. Maybe because this time he really felt guilty. Mothma had some encouraging words for him, but he could see the disappointment in her eyes. He didn’t want her pity. He didn’t want anyone’s pity.

He groaned in pain when he rolled over on his side, his ribs sending jolts of pain, but he ignored it. He moved closer to Cora, placing an arm around her waist and pulling her to his chest. She stirred in her sleep and nestled into his embrace, but didn’t wake up. He rested his head on the pillow next to her. The smell of bacta was overwhelming, but he could still feel the lingering smell of disinfectants that seemed to have been embedded into her skin and no matter how much she washed they never went away. Just like he always smelled of sweat, of dirt and engine oil. Of ammunition. Of blood and death.

He hated himself. 

 

*

 

When she woke up he was gone. Again. 

She felt around the bed for him, but her hand was only met by an entangled mess of moist, sticky sheets, smelling so sweet that it almost made her throw up. She decided on the spot, before she even got out of bed, that the next time he’d come back bruised and broken, submerging him in a bacta tank would be the only solution. But spending the night together was worth the mess, she thought. Still, it would have been much nicer if they’d actually wake up together in the morning, but she reminded herself not to be greedy.

The clock on the nightstand was blinking hysterically which meant that she somehow managed to repeatedly snooze the alarm. She usually didn’t wake up this late, but since she had a day off it wasn’t a problem. However, she promised she’d go visit Lew in the ER and bring her some food, and given the hour she wasn’t sure there was any breakfast left. 

It certainly wouldn’t be any left after she finished changing the sheets, showering and washing the bacta from her hair. She sighed and got up, promptly slipping on a trail of goo that went from her bed to the bathroom. She couldn't help but laugh imagining that Cassian had actually turned into a snail overnight, and added mopping the floors to her to-do list.

To her surprise it didn’t take that long until she finished everything and was out the door, heading for the mess hall. She was feeling refreshed thanks to sleeping in and in a surprisingly good mood that morning, especially since the bacta seemed to have done wonders on her skin. Glowing inside and out, she managed to convince the cook to make something for Lewella, who was very impressed by her multi-layer grilled cheese and ham sandwich.

“You smell like bacta, what happened to you?” Lewella asked, inhaling almost half of her sandwich in one enormous bite.

Cora wondered just how strongly she stank. “Nope. Bacta facial. Helps clear your complexion,” she lied, taking a seat onto a crate in front of the ER and scanning the crowd. 

She was looking for Cassian, but she knew there was only a slim chance that he was in the hangar at that hour. She hoped he had gone back to his room and was currently sleeping in his own bed, but she knew there was an even slimmer chance of that being the case. She had no idea what he did when he wasn’t on missions or where he spent his free time, unless he was drinking with his friends in the underground bar. She could see his ship in the distance, but didn’t notice any movement around it.

“So does semen, but you didn’t hear that from me,” Lewella said between bites, interrupting Cora’s train of thought and earning a death glare. A friendly death glare. 

“Anyway,” Cora said, shifting her attention back to the crowd. “Have you by any chance seen Cassian today?” She tried to sound nonchalant, but she was sure that Lewella wouldn’t be fooled by her pretended indifference. 

“So I mention semen and you automatically think of Cassian,” she laughed. “Interesting word association.”

Cora scoffed, but she could feel her cheeks burning. “It’s unrelated.”

“Riiight.” Cora threw her another (friendly) death glare, so Lewella shrugged. “He passed me this morning when I was going to work. Said something about doing some maintenance repairs on his ship and replacing some transistors, but I haven’t seen him since,” she said, finishing her sandwich and throwing the wrapper in the trash. “He didn’t look too good though.” 

“Did he stop by for a check-up?” She really hoped he did. She really hoped that for once he did what he had to do on his own accord so Cora didn’t have to drag him by the ear. 

“Obviously not, why do you even bother asking?” Lewella said in a mocking tone. “I didn’t insist, though. He didn’t seem to be himself today, so I left him alone. I think the past couple of days have been pretty shit.”

“I’ll go check up on him,” Cora decided, hopping off the crate. 

“Yeah, I doubt he’ll listen to you. He can get really distant at times,” she said, shrugging. “Add that to his normal stubbornness and see what you get. But give him a little space and he’ll eventually snap out of it and become human once again.”

Cora thought about it for a moment. Maybe her friend was right, and the best idea was to just wait for him to figure it all out, instead of forcing herself into his life like that. After all, Lewella had been friends with him for years and knew him much better than Cora did. “Thanks. But I think I’ll check on him really quick,” she eventually said, smiling apologetically. 

“Suit yourself. Come by later and maybe we can have lunch together.”

“I will.”

She waved goodbye and made her way into the crowd, heading towards Cassian’s ship. Lewella had been right, repairs were being done, with two droids welding a tear in the ship’s fuselage. Inside, K2 was looking like he was trying to hang himself with the wires coming out of the control panel. Cassian was a little harder to find, but with a little perseverance, Cora managed to track him down. He was wedged inside a tiny hatch reaching deep inside the ship’s innards. 

“Morning, Captain,” she said recognizing his outline crammed inside the tight space. Cora tried getting into the opening too, but it proved itself to be a much more complicated task than she anticipated, so she resigned herself to only sitting at its entrance, her feet dangling about two meters above the hangar floor. 

“Morning,” Cassian replied, emerging from the depths. 

“How are you feeling today?” He looked ok at a first glance, and by ok she meant he wasn’t dead. He had streaks of grease and engine oil all over his face, but from what she could see in the dim light he seemed to have lost the deathlike pallor he had the day before. 

“I’m fine,” he said. The almost nervous way in which he was avoiding her gaze made her think he was in fact lying.

“You’re forgetting that I am your doctor and I know for a fact that you can’t possibly be completely fine,” she said and even though she didn’t intend to sound confrontational, her voice still sounded harsh.

He threw a short glance her way, but made himself busy with some wires. “It’s bearable,” he eventually said, seeing that she was still waiting for an answer. “It hurts, but it’s healing. You know there’s nothing else to do besides waiting.”

“Well, resting would be a far better option, but I guess when it comes to you, this is as good as it gets,” she said, looking around. She wasn’t there to scold him, although a good lecture would do him no harm. At least she hoped he was only doing some minor tinkering and not lifting heavy things, giving his bones time to heal. “What can I help you with?” she suddenly asked, pointing towards whatever it was he was doing.

He seemed taken aback for a second and Cora felt he had been getting ready to argue with her, before her question took him by surprise.

“It’s ok, I can handle it,” he said, looking around the small space. He seemed somewhat distracted and maybe a little lost. He certainly wasn’t the Cassian she was used to.

“Bullshit. You can’t fix a ship with your broken hand,” she said, crossing her arms.

He smirked, a barely noticeable smile in the corner of his mouth. “That’s why power tools were invented.”

He had a point, but she still wasn’t ready to give up just yet. She was really only looking for an opportunity to spend some time with him, but she felt like she couldn’t just say it outright, afraid not to sound needy or clingy.

“But an extra helping hand won’t do any harm,” she tried, smiling sweetly, hoping he’d get the hint. “I mean I’m no mechanic, but I can hand you the things you need and I am perfectly capable of screwing bolts into their rightful place and not into my hand.”

He seemed to think about it for a second. Something in the way he was still avoiding her gaze made her think he was in fact avoiding her. Maybe he just needed some time alone and she was really being pushy. “There’s not enough space here for two people.” He sounded really apologetic. “You’d just get dirty and you wouldn’t be of much help.”

Ouch, that hurt. “I don’t mind getting dirty,” she mumbled, but she couldn’t deny the fact that she probably wouldn’t be of much help. 

“Don’t waste your day off with your hands in a ship engine.”

“Got nothing better to do anyway. I was hoping you could give me something to do to pass the time,” she shrugged. “Everyone else is working so I guess I’ll just go to the ER and see if they need any help.”

A heavy silence fell between them for a few moments, and Cora was starting to think that this was her cue to leave. She was starting to get the message: she wasn’t wanted there and there was no point in beating around the bush any longer. He seemed so determined to be alone right now that she felt like she was intruding. She wasn’t sure if he’d want her around on a good day, but she knew there was no chance today. 

“Alright…”

“You can go inside and see if K needs any help,” he interrupted her, picking up one of the tools. “He doesn’t have much patience with organizing small things and he’s changing some wiring, so I think he’s getting really frustrated right about now.”

Cora’s face erupted into a silly smile. She was about to leave and give up, but she was happy a compromise could be made. It wasn’t really what she came for, she hoped she would be spending some time with Cassian, but he still accepted her help and it meant a lot. He needed space, she understood that, but at the same time he didn’t completely reject her. 

“So you’re handing me over to the baby tyrant. What makes you think he won’t turn into a monster now that he’ll have so much power over me.”

Cassian chuckled, the sound somewhat broken by the echo in the hull. “It’s your job to make sure he doesn’t.”

“What if we kill each other?”

“Less of a headache for me. You said you wanted something to do, you never said you wanted something easy.” 

“Ok, I get it, I get it! Beggars can’t be choosers,” she laughed. “But I do expect my pay to be direct proportional with the injuries I will most certainly sustain.”

“I can’t promise you that.” 

“Worse job opportunities than in the Empire… worse than the Empire,” she joked, getting ready to climb down from the hatch, but then changing her mind. What if… 

She awkwardly crawled inside, managing to only narrowly avoid hitting her head on some pipes. He was right, there wasn’t enough space in there for both of them to fit comfortably, but this also meant the he was close enough for Cora to cup his grease stained cheek and press her lips onto his. After all, no one could see them, so why not? He didn’t seem to mind it and was kissing back, uncomfortably contorted in the small space. Everything smelled like jet fuel and exhaust fumes, but Cora was too lost in the moment to mind. 

“Ok,” she said, a little flustered after breaking the kiss. “I go now. K2-SO needs my help.”

“Try not to kill each other,” he said, resting his forehead onto hers a moment longer, before retreating into the bowels of the ship. “And don’t wreck my ship,” he yelled after her.

“Can’t promise anything,” she yelled back. 

Cora climbed down from the hatch, her cheeks burning. She didn’t know why she was so flustered, it wasn’t the first kiss they shared, hell they even had sex a few times already. Yet here she was, blushing like crazy after just one kiss. 

You’re not a teenager, she reminded herself as she pressed the palms of her hands on her cheeks, hoping the redness would soon disappear. She couldn’t let K2 see her like this, who knows what would go through his circuits. But the repair droids wouldn’t let her stick around and watch them welding the hull either—it wasn’t good for the eyes, she already knew that, but going blind was a better alternative to being mocked by K2 for blushing like an idiot. Eventually, she had no other choice but to go inside. 

The droid was even more entangled in the rainbow of wires than the first time she saw him that day, looking (and Cassian was right again) terribly frustrated.

“You still didn’t find him?” the droid asked, only acknowledging her presence when she sat down next to him. 

“Oh I found him,” she said, grabbing onto some of the wires. “He sent me to rescue you from the tentacles of the Wire Monster.”

“I don’t need any help,” he stated in his monotone voice, but Cora was convinced of the opposite. “Why is your face so red?”

“Hot flashes,” she replied. “Early onset of menopause,” she uttered the dumbest lie said in at least half a century, but the droid didn’t seem to notice. Or care.

“Then maybe you should go to the infirmary and get treated instead of bothering me.”

“Or maybe let me worry about my health and give me those wires, I’ll detangle them and put them in order.”

“Why are you here, Doctor?” he asked, and the question was so sudden that Cora didn’t know what to respond at first. 

“I want to help,” she said, putting the wires down.

“You’re not needed here,” he threw at her, and to her surprise it really hurt. She thought she had gotten used to his snarky remarks, but this time it was different. Maybe it was the barely noticeable change in tone, but it really seemed like he wasn’t talking only about fixing the ship. She watched him shove himself under the control panel, and resurface with a new clump of wires. “But neither am I,” he said, handing her the mess of wires. “Put them in order, red with orange and yellow, blue with…”

Cora smiled and didn’t stop him, even though she knew how to properly order a bunch of wires, but she let him go on. She wondered if he meant Cassian when he said ‘you’re not needed here’, and if he knew or suspected anything about their relationship. Either way, he seemed to accept her in the end, because why else would he let her change faulty wiring in the control panel with him, a task he was completely able to do on his own. Except that she had smaller hands and she could reach into narrow spaces better than him. And also because she had more patience testing each individual wire and tying them together. And because he couldn’t press buttons while simultaneously checking under the control panel to see why they didn’t work even after changing the wiring twice already. But he was perfectly capable of doing the rest on his own. 

She was amazed how fast time flies when you’re having fun. While most people wouldn’t call tinkering on a ship with a sarcastic droid ‘fun’, to Cora it was a pleasant change in routine. There wasn’t much to do on base besides work anyway, and with her being a little less than imaginative when it came to pastimes, she mostly ended up spending her free time either sleeping or working. So this was actually nice. K2 was pretty funny if you had a thick skin and didn’t take his mean remarks to heart. His sense of humour was mostly being various degrees of mean to people, but after you got used to it you’d notice that he was insanely smart. So Cora spent most of the morning sorting wires and bickering with K.

“Surprisingly, no one’s dead,” Cassian said when he showed up around noon with two food trays in his hands.

“She’s less useful than a protocol droid with their hands tied behind their back,” K2 was so kind to let him know.

“So are you, but with a slightly bigger ego,” she shot back. Cassian smiled, and handed her one of the trays. “Mmmm, unidentified green mush, my favourite!”

Cassian laughed and took a seat next to them on the ship floor. He looked a little cleaner, so he must have washed his hand and face, but his clothes were still dirty and he smelled like engine. However, he seemed a lot more relaxed than when she last talked to him. His frown wasn’t completely gone but the lines on his forehead weren’t as obvious as before. Sometimes he still got distracted and seemed lost in thought, but most of the time he was pretty present in the conversation. Even as unkempt and as sick as he currently was, he was still incredibly beautiful she thought and felt her cheeks start to redden once again, so she concentrated on her food. 

The rest of the day passed in a blur, split between bickering with K2 and helping Cassian replace some broken components of the life-support system. She tried to school them on how a ship should properly be cared for and they kept ignoring her advice, laughing at her pedantic advice; she somehow scraped both her knees and K2 nearly closed the main hatch on her fingers (totally unintentional, he swore); at some point, Cassian fell asleep in the pilot chair, so they made as little noise as possible so they wouldn’t wake him. Overall, she had a lot of fun.

Only in the evening, after showering and shoving all of her dirty clothes in a laundry bag, did she realize how tired she really was. Her room still retained a tang of bacta but now it also smelled like engine oil, a combination that wasn’t entirely pleasant, but it was bearable. 

When she heard a light tapping on her door her face broke into a huge smile.

“Hello, come here often?” she asked, leaning on the doorframe. 

Cassian was smirking from the other side of the door.


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally writing again, so hopefully there is someone still reading this. It's been a while, I know, but I really needed this break. Anyway, on with the chapter!
> 
> Special thanks to my beta and lovely friend, Llexeh!
> 
> Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays to you all!

“Doctor Enoch, there’s a message for you,” said one of the guards, poking his head through the automatic doors of the med bay and handing her an official looking envelope with the Rebel Alliance crest printed on it. 

Cora furrowed her brows in confusion, but took the letter, thanking the messenger. She turned to Doctor Crane once the guard left the med bay. The doctor was sat at his desk, going over some patient files on his data-pad, looking positively bored. 

“What is this?” she asked, holding the envelope between two fingers, like it was going to bite her. “Why are they sending me official looking papers? Is this their way of telling me they want me gone?”

Doctor Crane snickered. “I doubt it, your services are still very much needed,” he said, throwing her a glance over the data-pad in his hands. 

“Is it a death sentence, then?” she continued, ripping open the letter. “Doctor Corinthia Enoch… blah blah blah…” She started reading, her enthusiasm diminishing with every passing second. “We inform you that…” Her face, previously scrunched in confusion suddenly turned into a grimace. “Ok, fuck.”

“What does it say?” The doctor took off his reading glasses and put the data-pad down, ready to tackle whatever crisis may arise.

“Well, it says that if I want to keep being assigned to off-world missions in case of emergency I have to pass a combat skill assessment.”

“Oh, just that? It’s just a routine thing for everyone who, like you, may go into combat from time to time. They just want to check if you still know the basics. I wouldn’t worry if I were you,” he said, putting his glasses back on. 

“I worry,” she said, taking a seat on the other side of the desk. “I haven’t been thought proper combat training since… hell, since I left the DA team,” she said, running her fingers over her chin. “That was like… more than a year ago. Oh, Lord, time flies,” she said, with the air of someone who just woke up from a year-long coma.

“You’ll do fine!” He dismissed her worries with a vehement wave of hand. “You’ve had years of training and one never really forgets what they’ve learned.”

“But it’s in less than a week,” she whined. “And I’m completely out of shape,” she said counting on her fingers, “I haven’t shot a blaster in months, hell, I’ve only went to the shooting range twice since I’ve been here, I haven’t been in a battle simulation in more than a year. Besides, I have no idea what is required for such an assessment.” She sighed and rested her chin on the edge the desk, fidgeting with a pencil.

“Why don’t you ask Captain Andor?”

“How would he know?” she asked, moving her head slightly so she could look at the doctor. Was he in the assessment board? If so, could he be bribed?

“He’s been training new recruits for years, he’s bound to know.” 

“Really?”

“Mhm,” he mumbled. “Plus, if you’re really worried about the test, he could help you with some training sessions.”

“I couldn’t ask,” she said, propping her head into her palm. 

“And why not?”

“He’s busy.”

“How do you know that?”

“He’s always busy,” she said, and there was a barely noticeable trace of sadness in her voice. 

“You won’t know until you ask,” he said in a friendly, but earnest tone. “Don’t be afraid to ask your friends for help, Cora.”

She knew he was right, but at the same time, she hated the idea of being a burden. She’d spent so much of her life facing every challenge alone, that asking for help somehow felt weird. But she also knew that isolating herself whenever she had a problem wasn't the way to go.

“I’ll ask him about the requirements,” she decided. “I’ll need some training, but I think I can handle that on my own.”

“As you wish,” the doctor said from behind the data-pad. “However, you should leave early today,” he suggested. “See if you can find Cassian tonight. If he can’t help you out, I’m sure he’ll be able to at least point you in the right direction.”

“Yeah, I think I’ll do that,” she said, still nervously fidgeting with the pencil.

But despite leaving work early, the sun was already setting when she headed towards the training grounds. Doctor Crane had asked a few people during a break and found out that Cassian was currently tasked with teaching survival techniques in case of forced landings to a bunch of new pilots, and could be found somewhere around the training grounds. So Cora left work a little early, changed out of her medical uniform and into something a little more comfortable, she hoped, gathered all her courage, which wasn’t that much, and went to search for Cassian. 

She found him near the landing strip, explaining something to a couple of pilots that could have been the new recruits, even though some looked a lot older than Cassian. Cora waited patiently until he dismissed them, before approaching him with a weak smile on her face. 

“Good evening, Doctor,” he said, smiling back at her with a little more confidence. “What can I do for you?” Professional and direct, as always. 

“I received this today,” she said, handing him the paper. She had shoved it into her pocket, so now it was a crumpled mess. “Doctor Crane said that you might know what exactly is required during such an assessment.”

Cassian took the paper and silently read it. There was a slight frown on his face, like he was concentrating a bit too much on what he was doing, a frown that Cora had noticed didn’t usually leave his face when he was working. When they were alone, however, it was a different story. 

They didn’t spend every night together since he came back to base, after the Samarkand fiasco, but they did, one way or another meet every day. And it wasn’t just bumping into each other at the coffee machine, no, he diligently came in for his checkups, but only if she was working that day, and didn’t bolt out the door the moment she was done with changing the bandages; he sat with Lewella and her at lunch, especially since Melshi had come back and joined them too; they played Sabacc in their underground bar when some of the others came back, and although Cora lost every game she played, she had too much fun to care; and sometimes, she’d hear a light, but insistent tapping at her door at night.

“Basically,” he said, handing her back the paper, “you just show up, shoot in the general direction of the target without injuring anyone and you’ve passed.” He looked at her with a soft smile on his lips. The golden light of the sunset his his face in all the right places, making him glow. For a moment, he looked so surreal that Cora almost forgot to breathe. 

“I think you’re being a little too optimistic,” she laughed, shoving the paper back in her pocket. 

“About the assessment, or about you not injuring anyone,” he joked.

“Both I guess?” She shrugged. “I haven’t had any proper training in months and I doubt Draven’s gonna let me off the hook that easily, he’s always been against me doing anything.”

“Draven’s not going to be there,” he said, full of confidence. “And besides, combat medics and doctors are too valuable to deny them to work for us.”

“Maybe, but they won’t let me go off-world if I don’t pass,” she said, looking away, a wave of shame slowly creeping over her no matter how much she tried telling herself there was nothing to feel ashamed about. Some doctors, like Aidan, dar absolutely no military training or just refused to go into combat, and they still did a great job on base. No one ever judged a doctor for not going into battle, and even though she knew this wasn’t part of the deal she’d made with the Alliance, she still felt like it was part of her duty. 

“I thought you didn’t like confrontation.”

“I don’t, but… I just wanted to help, you know,” she shrugged. 

She was still afraid of having to go into battle and of the horrors it brought, she still had nightmares of the things she had seen while working for the Empire, and even worse ones about the things she hadn’t seen but imagined. And right now she felt part of the fight, so she wanted to take an active part in it. Now she understood, from the stories others had told her, just how sheltered she had been all her life, and how little she knew about the cruelty of the Empire. And she felt somewhat responsible for being blind to it all. Because no matter how long she denied it, if she had really wanted to know what was going on, she could have just looked out the window. But she didn’t, because it was easier to silence her conscience that way. 

Over time she had learned the stories of the ones that had willingly joined the Rebellion, and she couldn’t pretend to be blind anymore. She had to admit that the Empire was a terrifying place, and once she did so, she couldn't stay passive anymore, she couldn’t be an accomplice of the Empire any longer. She had to do something.

“I’ll train you,” Cassian said. “If you want.”

Cora looked at him. He didn’t really seem the type of person to offer something just to be polite. But she also knew that he was the type of person that would bend over backwards to help the people he cared for, so she really hoped he had the time for it and she wouldn’t be too much of a burden. 

“If you’re not too busy…” she replied, still a little unsure.

“I have too much time off these days.” He smiled, but Cora didn’t believe him. He always seemed to be busy with something. “Follow me.”

“Now?”

“Why not? The night is young. Do you have anything else planned?”

“No,” she had to admit. She had zero social life.

The sun had gone down and the landing strip was becoming darker by the second, the last reminder of the warm, golden light that bathed them a few minutes before was now staining the horizon. There was something a little frightening about nights outside, surrounded by nature. It felt like everything was alive and moving and who could know what those shadows were hiding. But Cora diligently followed him, telling herself that she wasn’t in fact scared, just a little apprehensive. 

The training grounds extended far into the jungle—exactly how much, Cora didn’t know because she had never ventured past the perceived edges of the base. Unknowingly, she’d stayed into the perimeter that had once been dictated by the restraining bracelets. Fortunately, Cassian guided her towards one of the metal warehouses built just at the edge of the rainforest. 

“What’s your weapon of choice?” he asked, turning on the lights. 

Cora blinked a few times, trying to adjust to the sudden shift in light intensity. The warehouse interior was designed to be a small shooting range, complete with moving targets. The whole setup looked familiar, although it wasn’t as big and new as the ones she had seen in the Empire. 

“Standard,” she replied. “E-11. And DLT-19x if needed.”

“You were a sniper?”

“Not a good one. But I had steady hands and lots of patience,” she said, wiggling her fingers, “so they tried making one out of me. Could also hold my pee for long periods of time. But now it seems my hands are better suited for surgeries.”

Cassian smiled and handed her a blaster. “We’ll see. Load the blaster and shoot your first target,” he said, and his voice sounded authoritative. She kinda liked it. 

“Sir! Yes, Sir!” she smiled, and did as she was told.

The weapon felt cold and foreign in her hands, even though its outline was familiar. The process of loading it was done almost automatically, but she had to fiddle a little to get the ammo in its slot. She remembered that a long time ago she could do it in complete darkness, upside down, submerged in water or in the middle of a sandstorm, and it stung a little bit knowing that she had lost that dexterity. But she was no longer a soldier, she had to remind herself. She was still in the military, but she was no longer a soldier. 

She hit the target with ease, the gun recoiling slightly in her hand. It wasn’t a perfect shot, but it was pretty close. A non-moving target that wasn’t that far away wasn’t a problem for Cora, even with almost no training. 

“Not bad,” said Cassian.

“Well, I was part of the training program for three years, they wouldn’t have kept me for so long if I was completely crap.”

“Why did they let you go then? They could have just denied your transfer.”

“I can’t handle stress very well, apparently, and they noticed it. Whenever there was a slight chance that I might get shot, well, let’s say that I lost all capacity to think…” she said, looking down at the blaster, the black gun feeling heavier in her hand. “I wasn’t very good at shooting people either.”

“That’s the whole job description.”

“Wrong career choice. Some people choose journalism, I chose the military.”

Cassian snickered and pressed some buttons on a control panel. 

“Let’s see how good are with moving targets.”

“Not great,” she said, sighing.

And she wasn’t. She hit 12 out of 20, and with the last ones, the ones that moved really fast, she wasn’t even close. She sighed and turned to Cassian with a sour look on her face.

“This is why I am telling you that I’m not going to pass the assessment,” she said, handing Cassian the blaster.

“You will pass it,” he said, pushing the blaster back into her hand. He seemed really convinced of it. “I can help you pass it if you want,” he offered. “But you have to realize that if you do, you will have to go into battle sooner or later. Even though you won’t be required to be on the front-lines, you never know what you may stumble onto. Until now, both of your off-world missions have been pretty eventful, to say the least.”

Cora snorted. “They didn’t advertise the job properly.”

“It’s up to you if you want to keep doing it. You could just do your job here, on base.”

“Do I have a choice? With so little personnel, every…”

“You always have a choice,” he said, and the look in his eyes became a little darker. “Don’t ever blame it on others.”

Cora felt a lump forming in her throat. He was right, once again. She had to take responsibility for her own actions. Trying to shift the blame onto someone else did not make you less responsible for your decisions. 

“Yeah, I want to do it. I’m not sure I can, though.”

“I can help you with that too, up to a point. Get you back into shape,” he said with a stern look on his face. “But what you do in the field, that’s up to you.”

“You make it all sound so ominous,” she joked, trying to break the serious atmosphere, not wanting to have to admit that she may never be able to hold her own in an actual fight, no matter how determined she was to try. “You must be fun at parties.”

“I’m very fun at parties,” he said in the same serious tone, his face not moving any additional muscle, and Cora couldn’t help but laugh. She stifled the urge to put the gun down, run her fingers through his hair and kiss him until she lost her breath. “Shall we try this again?” he asked, waking Cora up from her daydreaming.

“Yeah, let’s do this.” She got into position and waited for Cassian to start the machine.

“Be a little more patient this time. You don’t have to shoot them the moment they come into view. Most of them move slowly enough for you to have time to take aim properly,” he instructed. “The targets come at random, but they use they same algorithm. Do this enough and you’ll see that after a while you’ll be able to predict where the next target will show up. Ready? Go!”

Cora tried her best to follow his advice, but she still rushed into shooting the targets as they showed up. After a few more rounds though, she was able to keep her impatience a little more in check, so she hit a few more. With each passing try she was getting more and more used to the strange feeling of having a blaster in her hand once again after so many months of not touching a gun. When Cassian told her to stop, she was able to hit an average of 17 out of 20 targets. 

“You did good tonight,” he told her as he was putting the blaster back in its place in a metal case. 

“Could have been better,” she said, massaging her arms. She found out she was more out of shape than she’d previously thought, but it was no surprise. With long, tiring shifts almost every day, she really didn’t feel like hitting the gym in her time off. “I used to be able to hit all the targets.”

“You’ll get used to it,” he reassured her, patting her shoulder. “I’m not teaching you anything new, you already know everything I’m telling you. You just need a little time to remember.”

“Will I have enough time until the assessment?”

“Forget about the assessment,” he said, his hand still heavy on her shoulder. “You don’t have to worry about that, I keep telling you. That is just child’s play.” With a smile he took his hand off her shoulder and went back to putting things away. “But if you want to train anyway, I’ll meet you here tomorrow.” Cora nodded enthusiastically and Cassian snickered. “When is your next shift?”

“Tomorrow, in the afternoon. Im probably going to be at work past midnight.”

“Then I can meet you here in the morning, if it’s not too much for you.”

“How early?” 

“Whenever you want.”

“Sunrise?” she asked in a burst of enthusiasm that she instantly regretted.

“Fine by me.” 

“Really?” She half expected/half hoped he’d politely decline and suggest a more reasonable hour, but it seemed that Cassian wasn’t too bothered by it. “Do you ever sleep?” she asked, leaning a little closer to him, but not quite touching.

“As if you didn’t know,” he said, smiling sheepishly and Cora wanted to just grab his cheeks and kiss him. But she didn’t because even though she was pretty sure there was no one around to see it, it wasn’t a thing people usually did in public, and she wasn’t sure Cassian would be ok with that. Overthinking again.

“I’ve never actually seen you sleep,” she said, leaning into his frame, placing a hand onto his shoulder and watching him place the ammo into another case.

“That’s only because you fall asleep first,” he smirked. “And speaking of sleeping, you should go to bed as soon as possible. You’ve had a long day and it’s late.”

Cora had to cover her mouth to stifle a yawn. “I’ll have to go through the mess hall first, I completely forgot to get dinner, and I sort of skipped lunch as well…”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” he asked, the frown back between his eyebrows.

“I forgot. You’d be surprised how easily stress can suppress your appetite.” She shrugged. “Unfortunately, I’m not sure the mess hall’s still open at this hour. There’s someone bringing food to the night shift, but I’m not sure they make any extra.” It wasn’t that big of a problem, she was sure she still had some energy bars in her room since she always had some on hand for a quick snack when she was too busy at work, but a normal meal would be nice before going to sleep. 

“I know someone we can talk to,” Cassian said, guiding her outside and locking the door behind them.

The sky was perfectly clear for once, so Cora could see the myriad of stars once again. It was a beautiful night, some of the usual humidity having lifted, the air feeling unusually crisp and refreshing. Cassian stood next to her, his hands in his pockets, silently admiring the view.

“They look different from down here,” she said. “They’re just as beautiful nonetheless.”

“Yes, they are,” he said, still looking at the sky, the content look on his face softening his features. Cora smiled, looking at him, a warm fuzzy feeling taking over. 

“Let’s go find something to eat before we self-digest,” she said starting to walk towards the hangar, hoping he wouldn’t notice the blush that had crept over her cheeks.

They walked into the building and guided by Cassian, they found their way into the kitchens through one of the back doors. Cora had never been there, only caught passing glimpses through the swinging doors when they brought the food to the mess hall. It was a fascinating and foreign new territory, since she’d never been to an army kitchen before, or at least, not that she could recall. Truth be told, she hadn’t been much in normal kitchens either, since all her life she had eaten canteen food. 

The kitchen was spotless and well organized, something she found a bit surprising seeing as everything seemed to be on a different level of chaos on base. There was only one man in the whole kitchen, placing some vegetables into a huge tray. 

Cassian approached the large man, and Cora followed closely behind, feeling a little out of place. She smiled as Cassian greeted him and asked if there were any leftover food for them. 

“Depends,” he replied in a heavy accent that Cora couldn’t pinpoint, after looking them up and down for a few moments. “Are you on a date?” The question was followed by a huge smile, baring more teeth than Cora thought possible to be in only one person’s mouth. Something told her he wasn’t fully human, but she couldn’t tell for sure.

“No,” Cassian replied, with his usual air of nonchalance. Cora, on the other hand, nearly choked on her own saliva. Did they look like they were on a date? Probably, why else would they be together at that late hour. “Just hungry,” Cassian explained.

The cook looked at them once again, then turned back to his tray of vegetables. “Then you’ll have to cook for yourselves. Whatever you find in the kitchen is yours to use, but don’t make a mess.”

“But what if we were on a date?” Cora asked, unable to stop herself, curiosity getting the best of her. 

“Same thing,” the cook said, throwing her a brief, toothy smile over his shoulder, “but you know, with some lit candles and stuff.” 

Cora snorted, crossing her arms over her chest and following Cassian with her eyes. He was already looking through the cupboards, and seemed to be feeling quite at home. 

What if it were a date, she wondered. She had never been on an actual date before, her lifestyle never allowed it, although she considered their outing on Samarkand a sort of date. It was the start of whatever they had right now. And what they had might not have been much, but to her, it was special. So yeah, a candle lit dinner would have been nice. Was it too late to ask?

“Do you want to make something?” Cassian asked, pointing towards the stove. 

“No, I don’t know how to cook,” she blurted out, feeling her cheeks redden with embarrassment when the only two pairs of eyes in the room fixed on her. “I never had to learn,” she mumbled apologetically, hoping she didn’t sound too much like an entitled aristocrat. 

“Then I’m going to make you one of my special omelettes,” Cassian said with a cheeky smile, completely disregarding her confession. Cora let out a sigh of relief, and nodded. “It’s probably one of the best you’ll have on base.”

“Now you’re just bragging,” the cook said, shoving the huge tray in one of the even bigger ovens. “I know you’re trying to impress, but you learned to cook in the slums, and it shows. She ought to have more refined taste.” He grinned, and Cora could tell it was just that sort of friendly teasing that happened between manly men, but for a fraction of a second Cora could see a shadow clouding Cassian’s features, so she really wanted to kick the cook in the shins.

“If I can survive on canteen food, I can eat anything,” she shot back. “My taste buds are already numb, I can’t even remember what real food tastes like.”

“Ouch! She’s mean!” the cook said, smiling broadly, looking like he wasn’t in the least bothered by the insult. And even if he was, he kinda deserved it. (Also the food was really bad. She most likely wasn't the first one that told him that.) He fiddled with the oven knobs for a moment before straightening his back, enjoying the cracking sound it made. “I’m gonna go take a shower until these things cook,” he said, pointing towards the oven. “Make sure not to burn the place down before I come back.”

“It wouldn’t be the first time that happened,” Cassian mumbled, loud enough for the cook to hear.

“Be careful, kid.”

Cora waited until the cook left the kitchen before leaning on the counter next to Cassian, watching him pull out different ingredients from a huge fridge.

“Did you set the kitchen on fire before?” she asked.

“Not me. He did,” he smirked, a little devious. “But not this kitchen, it happened on another base.”

“And he’s still employed? How did he manage to do that?”

“Left the oven unsupervised.”

“Should have guessed it,” she laughed. “What are you making?” She leaned a little closer, looking at the unfamiliar ingredients. She recognized the potato and eggs, but the rest of the vegetables she couldn’t identify. 

“Umm, nothing fancy,” he said, scratching the back of his head and looking a little embarrassed. She guessed that the comment made earlier by the cook had curbed his enthusiasm a little. “Just something quick.”

“Quick and filling are my favourite things,” she said, pressing a hand on her stomach, trying to make it stop rumbling. Well, that phrase could be interpreted in more than one way… “Is there anything I can help you with? I’ve never cooked before, but if you show me what to do, I promise to stitch the ensuing cut fingers myself.”

Cassian laughed, and started peeling some of the vegetables. “There isn’t much you can help me with,” he said, and Cora felt relieved. Although she wanted to help, she really didn’t want her lack of skill to be on display. She was sure Cassian wouldn’t laugh at her, after all he didn’t laugh at her when she was in target practice, but seeing herself fail again today wasn’t really needed. So instead she was happy to watch Cassian, who seemed to be just as skilled at peeling potatoes as he was at shooting guns. 

Although she could see that being grounded was making him restless, having some time off was doing him good. He had put on a little weight, her professional eye told her. Not too much, he wasn’t going to get a beer belly anytime soon, but his cheeks didn’t look as sunken in as they did so many times when he came back from his missions. She could feel it when they were sleeping together, his bones didn’t seem to be sticking out as much and he felt heavier when he rested on top of her. Also, he seemed to smile a lot more. 

When she first met him, so many months ago, she didn’t think he ever smiled. He seemed so constipated, Cora was sure he needed to use some emotional laxatives from time to time. But lately he had loosened up, at least behind closed doors or among friends. As far as she knew, he was just as stiff in public as he always was. But now they had moments like this, when the frown was gone and a content expression took its place. Some stubborn strands of hair kept getting into his eyes, so as he was trying to push them away, he was smearing potato juice all over his forehead.

“What?” he asked, and Cora knew he’d caught her staring at him for the past few minutes.

“You’re really handsome,” she said on a whim, actually speaking her mind instead of trying to find an excuse for blatant ogling.

Cassian laughed, but seemed somewhat taken by surprise, avoiding her gaze and looking at the vegetable in his hand like he’d forgotten what he was supposed to do with it. He was incredibly cute when flustered, losing that serious demeanor that made him look so old sometimes. Although she often forgot it, he was still only a couple of years older than her. 

“And also you have some dirt on your forehead,” she added, trying to wipe it off with her hand, but the vegetable juice had dried on his skin and was quite persistent. Cora’s cheeks had started burning too. They didn’t usually say things like this to each other, not when they were out of the the privacy of her bedroom, and even then it seemed like something said only in the heat of the moment. “That, however, does not contradict in any way my previous statement.”

Cassian laughed a hearty laugh and went back to peeling the vegetables. He didn’t say anything for a while, like he didn’t really know how to respond to the sudden compliment, but the tiny smile that kept playing on his lips was more than Cora needed to understand that it was appreciated. 

His hands moved very fast, chopping and dicing the ingredients, mixing them with the eggs and finally throwing them into the hot pan. There were so many things Cora wanted to ask him about what he was doing, and the process of cooking looked so exciting and new, that it made her want to try it someday. 

“You should teach me how to cook,” she said, taking in the delicious aroma that was coming from the sizzling pan. 

“I will,” he said with the same ease he offered to train her earlier that day. “But not tonight. Tonight you need rest.”

“Aye aye, Captain!” she said, standing at attention. “When did you learn to cook?”

“A long time ago,” he said, flipping the omelett. “It happened gradually, I guess. I was always the youngest in the team, and so I often got the shitty jobs. Kitchen duty was just one of them.”

“Wow, that must have sucked!” She imagined a young Cassian being forced to do the hardest and dirtiest jobs []. What else could have been expected by a gang that let a kid join their ranks and wield a blaster at such a young age. She wondered if he ever got any formal education. Probably not. 

“Sometimes it sucked,” he said, placing the omelett on two plates and handing her one. The food looked really good, steaming and colorful, so different from the usual mud coloured canteen stews that she had gotten used to. “We could…” he said, looking around the kitchen. “I hoped we could go somewhere else to eat, but we’re a little stuck here until Dony comes back.”

“I don’t mind staying here,” she said, placing her plate on a small table that was wedged in a corner, and pulling a stool next to it. Cassian shrugged, and handed her a fork and knife then placed two beer bottles on the table before taking a seat across from her. 

“It’s probably less fancy than what you’ve been used to,” he said, pointing at the food with the fork. The embarrassed smile from before was back, and he seemed once again to be avoiding her gaze. 

"I've eaten canteen food most of my life. No one in my family cooked, they never had the time, so home-cooked food is something new to me." She smiled a sad smile. "Besides, the so-called fine dining is usually over-hyped." Cora’s stomach made a rumbling noise so she shoved a forkful of food into her mouth, instantly regretting it the moment the scalding hot substance touched her tongue.

“Be careful, it’s hot,” he laughed.

“Now you tell me!” she whined, after taking a huge gulp of beer, trying to calm the burning sensation. She took the next bite with a lot more caution, making sure to actually taste it this time. “It’s really good!” she said, shoving another forkful into her mouth. It was creamy and flavourful, the different vegetables giving it a pleasant texture. She could identify a type of ham, but the taste was unfamiliar. Overall, it was nothing like the bland, overcooked food that they served in the mess hall. “I could get used to this.”

Cassian laughed, and maybe it was the light, but she could swear there was a light blush tinting his cheeks. Maybe it was the beer. 

“Well, we could do this more often,” he offered, digging into his own omelette. “If you want to. And have the time, of course.”

“I will always make time for food,” she said, with a little grin on her face. And also for you, she wanted to add, but didn’t for fear of not making it sound too cheesy.

“We should take the candles next time,” Cassian said, looking down at his food and Cora felt a fuzzy feeling taking over her. 

“Yeah, we could. Or we can wait for the oven to catch fire,” she joked, trying to hide how flustered she had become in a mere second. So he sort of considered it a date too. That was good to know. 

Fortunately, nothing happened to the oven during their meal, so they could eat their food in peace. Cora managed to forget about the assessment and her worries were laid to rest for a while. Only when they left the kitchen, after they cleaned the dishes and woke up the cook—he was sound asleep in a small office down the hall, snoring loudly—Cora realized just how sleepy she was. It was a nice feeling, different from the usual fatigue that was ever present at the end of her shifts. Her whole body was feeling heavy and warm, and she was very eager to take a quick shower and go to bed. 

The way to the elevators seemed a lot longer than usual. The base was pretty quiet at this hour, with everyone either sleeping or working the night shifts, so the halls were almost empty. There was an odd silence surrounding them, and Cora could clearly hear herself dragging her feet on the stone floor, but was too tired to do anything about it. 

“Thanks for helping me,” she said, waiting for her elevator. “And for the food. It was really great.”

“My pleasure,” he said, leaning on the wall next to her elevator. “Come find me tomorrow, if you want to continue the training. Make sure you eat your breakfast first. And rest. Don’t come first thing in the morning.”

“Do you think I’ll have enough time to train?” she asked, panic once again rising from the depths.

“Yeah. I told you, I’m not training you for the assessment, I’m training you for when you’ll actually have to go to battle. You could pass the assessment today if you had to.”

She knew that it was meant to calm her nerves, but it had the exact opposite effect, the reminder that she had to actually go into battle one day was giving her the chills. Fortunately, she was too tired to have a full blown panic attack, so she just threw a death glare in Cassian’s direction. 

“I’m blaming you if I fail the assessment,” she said, as the elevator door opened in front of her. “Just so you know.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” For a moment, he seemed not to know what to do next, so he fidgeted a bit. Cora waited patiently in front of the elevator, not daring to make the first move. She wanted to kiss him, drag him to her room and then promptly fall asleep in his lap, but instead she just smiled timidly. “Good night, Doctor,” he said, making up his mind and leaving with a smile.

“Good night, Captain,” she smiled back, stepping into the elevator. 

She sighed and leaned on the wall, pressing the button with the enthusiasm of moist cardboard. Was it too much to ask for a goodnight kiss? There was a little irony in that thought, because she knew she could have actually asked for a kiss instead of wishing he’d just take a hint, but there was always the fear that maybe he’d reject her. Sure, behind closed doors, hidden from the rest of the world, their relationship was certainly different. But what if that’s all he wanted? She wasn’t sure if he’d be ok with them eventually coming out as a couple to everyone else. She wasn’t sure if he even thought about them as a couple. Right now it was a sort of friends with benefits type relationship, no strings attached, no headaches, no commitment. Unfortunately, Cora knew that sooner or later thay’d have to have “the talk”, and the relationship would either move onto the next level, or end completely. 

This couldn’t go on forever, because every day she was falling for him a little more. She’d gotten so used to seeing him every day, that she was looking forward for their meetings. Even on the shittiest days, he had the power to make her feel a little better. There was something comforting about his presence, the way he smiled at her and the little jokes they shared; the warm embraces and hot, languid kisses they shared when they were alone; the nights when she just couldn’t fall asleep so she just nestled closer to him, listening to his heart. 

Maybe one day she’d have to give it all up, but for now she was content living in this limbo.


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok so I have no excuse, but, here is the next chapter. I am finishing this story even if it's the last thing I do.   
> Special thanks to all of you who keep reading this, you guys are amazing, and to Llexeh who proofread this at 3 am because she's an amazing friend.
> 
> Ps: anyone know how to type with long, gel nails?

The next few days were extremely tiring, but seeing that she was making progress was giving her enough strength to keep going. Training every day before or after her shifts was exhausting, but with the assessment closing in, she dismissed Cassian’s suggestion to take it slow. So he decided to add one hour of physical training a day, because apparently he was either very nice or a complete monster, no in-between. Or both at the same time, she couldn’t make up her mind. 

So now she had half an hour of jogging around the base and half an hour of strength training every day, on top of weapons training, survival techniques, field training and everything else. Fortunately, she still remembered all the theoretical parts, the protocols (which, she just found out, no one really gave a shit about since they were nowhere as strict as the Empire), and anything that had to do with the medical aspect of her job. However, she absolutely sucked at hand to hand combat, as she found out one night, when Cassian mercilessly beat her ass. 

She had never been great at it, she was well aware of that, but usually she was fast enough to avoid getting her ass kicked in a very humiliating way. This time, it wasn’t the case. Cassian was faster, stronger and could somehow predict her every move. She had always known he was fast, ever since she tried clawing his eyes out (the first time), but she had never seen him fight, and she had to admit, it was quite impressive. Before she could get close enough to hit him, she was either on the floor or in a chokehold. 

“If it wasn’t for the humiliation part,” she said, trying to wiggle out of his grasp as she found herself immobilized in a chokehold once again, “I’d really enjoy this.”

Cassian chuckled, his chest vibrating slightly against her back. “Would you, now?” His breath tickled down her neck making her hair stand, but his lips never really touched her skin. Instead he let go of her, and without his support she just collapsed on the ground. “Too bad training’s over.”

“You’re such a tease,” she mumbled, vigorously massaging her aching muscles into working once again. She was glad training was over, for every fiber of her body hurt in ways she didn’t imagine to be possible until now. 

“You should take a hot shower and go to bed ASAP,” he said, helping her up. “We’ll take it easy tomorrow, or you won’t be able to walk to your assessment.”

“Weapons training tomorrow,” she said, dusting off her clothes. “I’m very happy not to do physical for a day, but I still need the gun training.”

“As you wish. But I think you should take it down a notch before you hurt yourself.”

“Mhm,” she mumbled, taking a big gulp of water, “after the assessment I’m taking three days off and do nothing but sleep. If I don’t fail, that is…” 

“Not much of an optimist, are you?”

“I’m not genetically programmed for optimism. It’s in my lineage.” She laughed, but it was true. They were all a bunch of sad, morose imperials. Well, whatever was left of her family anyway. 

Cassian laughed and bid her goodnight once they were out, turning off the lights in the gym and locking the doors behind them. Cora dragged her feet to her room, her body heavy and uncooperative. She contemplated sleeping in the elevator for a moment, slouched in a corner, but her gym clothes were sweaty and her skin itchy. She probably also stank, but her sense of smell seemed to have diminished due to exhaustion. So she convinced herself to get into the shower and sleep there. 

She was pretty sure she actually fell asleep for a few moments while showering and was only woken up by a knock on her door. Either that or she dreamt it, which was a lot more plausible because there was no way she could actually hear it over the running water. But dream or not, Cassian was on the other side of the door when she opened it. 

“I brought you something to ease the pain,” he said, stepping in and showing her a jar filled with a weird, brown, gel-like substance. 

“Thank you, but it’s ok,” she said, trying to fix the towel she had hastily wrapped around herself. “I took some meds, they’ll help with the discomfort.”

“So will this,” he said, unscrewing the lid, a pungent smell filling the room almost instantly. Cora scrunched her nose in disgust. “But faster and more efficiently.”

“Umm, no.” Cora took a few steps back, putting her hands up in defense, like he was about to attack her with the brown ointment. “It looks like dung. What’s it made of, anyway?”

“Trust me, you don’t want to know. Now let me give you a massage, you’ll feel much better afterward,” he insisted.

Cora really wanted to tell him where he could shove his weird jar of bantha manure, but then she remembered how stubborn he could be, and if she could fight him to smear his wounds in bacta, she was sure he would do the same when he believed he knew better. And now she knew that he’d win, because she was crap at hand to hand combat and he’s already kicked her ass once that day. 

“Ok, alright,” she sighed, throwing her hands up in despair. “But only if you promise you won’t fight me the next time I wanna smear you in bacta.” He let her arms rest on his shoulders, pulling him closer. If she was about to spend the night smelling like a witch doctor’s medicine cabinet, the least he could do was kiss her first. 

“I won’t make promises I won’t be able to keep,” he whispered, kissing along her jaw. 

“Won’t be able or don’t intend to keep?”

He chuckled and Cora realized she really didn’t mind being smeared in weird looking concoctions, even though she knew they were useless, as long as it made Cassian happy. The medic in her that opposed anything she considered to be snake oil was currently subdued by the woman that just wanted to see her man happy. It wasn’t that much of an effort to put her pride aside and for once do what someone else told her to do. 

“Let’s get you into bed,” he said, before Cora could just fall asleep with her head on his shoulder. She nodded and yawned, taking her towel off and throwing it on the back of a chair.

If she imagined that what was about to come would be a sensual massage, oh boy, was she wrong. Although Cassian’s hands weren’t rough or heavy, he managed to find all the sore spots in her muscles, making Cora moan, and not of too much pleasure.

“You’re mean,” she complained, as the pain became a little too much, wiggling away from his touch. “You were supposed to be gentle.” She grabbed her sheets and wrapped herself in them, trying to find a little protection from his pain inducing fingers. There was a trail of brown goo on her pristine white sheets, and Cora really hoped it won’t stain. The smell, although pungent, wasn’t as unpleasant as she first thought. It smelled of herbs and sap and other things that she couldn’t identify, but it wasn’t bad. 

“If I’m gentle you won’t be able to move for the next three days,” he said, trying to detangle Cora from the sheets. 

“I don’t wanna move for the next three days, I wanna sleep,” she whined, sounding more pathetic than she expected. 

Cassian sighed, but there was still an amused smile on his lips and Cora could tell he definitely wasn’t taking her seriously. “Just a little longer,” he bargained. “Five more minutes and I’ll let you sleep. I promise.”

Cora pouted and tried to murder him with her eyes but got out of the sheets, laying back on her stomach. “You have to cook for me again, if you ever want to forgive me for the pain you’re putting me through,” she said, when his hands went back to massaging her thighs. Cassian laughed and agreed to her conditions.

She flinched at first, but eventually managed to relax. Either she was getting used to it or he was being gentler, but it wasn’t as bad this time around. Her muscles didn’t ache as badly, but it felt like they were on fire, her skin red and hot. However, she was thankful. She realized how lucky she was to have someone to train her, to rearrange his whole schedule to match hers and after that to find the time to tend to her aching muscles and bruises, even though she was sure he was just as tired as she was. Although she wasn’t convinced the ointment was going to help, she was pretty sure the massage would. 

Once she relaxed she started to feel sleep taking over. Her eyelids were growing heavier and her mind was becoming a little hazy. Trying hard not to fall asleep, she turned slightly and propped herself onto an elbow. She watched as Cassian massaged her ankles, a satisfied smile plastered on her face. 

“What?” he asked, throwing her a glance from behind the curtain of unruly, black hair currently getting into his eyes. 

“I never thought you could be this domestic,” she said, poking at his thigh with her toes, smiling stupidly. 

He frowned a little in confusion. “What did you think I’d be like? Feral?”

“A little. You have this bad boy vibe, but you’re actually really sweet.” Cora snickered. “If you wanna know the truth, I thought you were really annoying at first,” she confessed. “Huuuuge stick up your ass. I just wanted to hit you over the head until I could break that infuriating calm attitude you always had whenever you came for interrogations.” Cora laughed at the memory. 

Cassian however, didn’t. The moment she mentioned the interrogations he froze, his hands clenched on her ankles. He quickly pulled himself together, going back to rubbing her feet, but this time he was avoiding her gaze and his smile was gone. Cora’s heart sunk. She knew she had made a mistake. She hadn’t realized that talking about something that had happened so long ago could strike a chord, especially when it wasn’t the first time she had teased him about being much too serious on the job.   
She wanted to apologize, anything to break the sudden tension in the atmosphere, but she wasn’t sure what to apologize for and wondered if it wasn't better to just pretend she didn’t notice his change in attitude. Considering that they had jokingly insulted each other before, she didn’t think that he’d take that to heart. Maybe he was just tired. 

“I’m sorry,” he eventually said, breaking the silence. He was looking down at his hands, tracing the outline of her foot with his fingers.

“For?” she asked, sitting up on the bed, panic clearly visible on her face. 

“For bringing you here,” he said, turning his head slightly to look at her, his voice low and remorseful. “For not keeping my promise.”

Cora let out the breath she was holding and slumped back against the pillows. So this was what it was all about. She frowned. She really didn’t want to have this conversation now (or ever, for that matter), for there was still so much resentment. And even if that resentment wasn’t directed towards him, she still didn’t want to voice it. But it seemed like she had no choice. Not when he finally apologized and she saw how much it affected him. 

“It’s ok,” she said, forcing the words to leave her mouth. “I mean, you were right,” she said, looking at her fingers, her turn now to avoid his gaze. “I see it now. If you would have left me alone on a strange planet I would have been dead, or worse, would have fallen into the hands of the Empire. I just… I just wished I had seen it then. Understanding that you had a job to do and did what needed to be done at that point, and so did the Council, would have saved me a lot of energy and there would have been less bad blood.” She smiled weakly, hoping that he’d just accept it and leave it at that. 

“I shouldn’t have done it anyway.” There was a sort of resolve in his voice, that gave Cora the impression that he had been thinking about it for a while and they weren’t just empty words meant to make her feel better. 

“I’ve forgiven you a long time ago. We wouldn’t be here if I hadn’t,” she said, smiling, a blush tinting her cheeks. “But thank you. It means a lot to me.” It really did. It meant the world to her that he cared enough to apologize for something that in the end, was just him doing his job. She didn’t think that he had second thoughts and that he regretted anything he did, but it seemed she had been wrong, and there was still a lot she didn’t know about Cassian. “I’m also sorry,” she said. “I’ve said some terrible things to you back then.”

“You were right,” he said, his posture still rigid, but the smile seemed genuine. 

“No I wasn’t. I only said what I knew would hurt, and I didn’t mean most of it.” She shook her head lightly. “Especially not the part where I said that I regret saving your life. I didn’t regret saving your life for a moment. And I regret a lot of decisions I made in my file, but not this one.”

Cassian still looked a little weary, but his stance seemed to soften up. His hands still absentmindedly caressed her feet. “So,” he said, a smile creeping up his face, “you didn’t mean it when you said I looked like a… weasel?”

“Oh no, I meant that,” she said stifling a laugh, the atmosphere feeling suddenly lighter. “I still think you look like a weasel. Small and cuddly, but with some very sharp teeth.” She shot up and grabbed his shirt, yanking him towards her. “And speaking of cuddles, I demand some,” she said, pulling him closer. 

He discarded his shoes turned off the light, and got into bed with her fully clothed. Cora pulled the covers over both of them and nestled into his arms, sighing in content. She didn’t care that she was smearing brown ointment all over his clothes, or that his uniform was feeling kind of rough against her bare skin, right now all she wanted was to fall asleep in his protecting embrace. 

“You know,” she whispered in his ear, “I know my situation is not ideal, and my life is not like I’d imagined it to be, but right now there’s nowhere else I’d rather be.” 

Cassian didn’t say anything, and for a moment she thought that he’d fallen asleep before her, but then she felt him pull her closer, pressing her to his chest. He found her lips in silence and kissed her deeply. 

She fell asleep with her head in the crook of his neck, listening to his even breathing. 

 

*

 

The evening before the assessment Cora wasn’t as stressed as she anticipated. She expected to be mortified, pacing around the room unable to calm down, but to her surprise, she was pretty chill. That didn’t mean she was completely serene, but it was as close at she’d gotten to being calm since she found out about it.

The postponing of the assessment had played a role in that—a sudden attack on one of their outposts kept everyone busy for almost a full week—but it wasn’t the extra hours of training that she got between long and exhausting shifts. Seeing the wounded fight for their life put everything in a different perspective. After all, even if she failed the assessment, her primary job was healing the patients on base, and she was confident that she was useful where she was. She was doing enough as it was, without the added responsibility. 

And with this conclusion in mind, she actually managed to do a lot better in the training sessions. Without the pressure to succeed looming over her, she found it easier to concentrate and follow Cassian’s advice. And when she focused, she didn’t suck as bad, even earning a few praising words from Cassian here and there. She still hopelessly sucked at hand to hand combat, but she didn’t have much hope in that field. She just wasn’t built for it, physically or mentally. 

Her shift ended early that night, so she had quite some time to spend with Lewella who had just gotten back from a mission, eating dinner and chatting. Lew was an amazing storyteller and she could make even the most mundane mission sound like an exciting adventure. So Cora listened, forgetting about the stress for a few hours.

But Lewella was tired so she went to sleep early and Cora found herself alone once again. Knowing that if she went to bed now she'd just end up lying awake for hours, she started aimlessly walking around the base. She’d agreed with Cassian that they’d take a break from training that night, so she could get enough rest, but without his training sessions she realized that she had nothing to occupy her time, except for work and the occasional meetings with her very few (and very busy) friends.

Despite doing her best to avoid meeting Cassian, trying hard to not look too clingy and unable to spend a night without him, she still bumped into him on the landing strip. Ok, maybe she didn’t do her best, and maybe deep inside she hoped she’d bump into him one way or another, but she liked to believe that she at least tried avoiding him. 

“Good evening, Doctor,” he said once he noticed her walking towards him. “How are your pre- assessment jitters?”

“I haven’t spontaneously combusted yet, so pretty good I’d say,” she laughed.

“Can’t sleep?”

“I haven’t even tried,” she said, feeling like this wasn’t the reply he was expecting. However, the frown that she expected in return never appeared. “It’s still early. I’m way too used to sleeping after midnight to change it in a day.”

Cassian nodded. “Well, if you won’t try to sleep any time soon, do you want to see something?” he asked, putting back some tools someone had left on the landing strip, next to a half taken apart engine. 

“Depends,” she said out of reflex. “What is that something and how bad will be get in trouble for it?”

“Why do you think we’ll get in trouble?” he laughed, raising an eyebrow.

“In my experience anything that starts with ‘wanna see something cool’ or ‘wanna do something’ ends with one or more people being reprimanded. But maybe it’s just me and I’ve been friends with the wrong people my whole life.”

“Well, don’t listen to Lew if she ever tells you that. Or Melshi,” he chuckled. “But I’m going to make sure it won’t happen. I wouldn’t want you to miss the assessment tomorrow.”

Cora crossed her arms. “You’re almost making me want to get in trouble now.”

“Not tonight,” he assured her, and somehow, she felt a little let down. There was a part of her that craved the adventure, the danger, a part that was always in conflict with the logical and cautious part of her brain. “So, are you coming?” he prompted, placing the newly rearranged toolbox on a shelf and waiting for Cora to make up her mind. 

“Hell, why not,” she decided, and followed him. 

There was a satisfied grin plastered on his face and he seemed pleased with himself. Cora assumed he was expecting her to say no, but she would gladly get in trouble if it meant spending some time alone with him. She’d never tell him that though, she should never know how much power he had over her. 

He led her to his ship. Cora wondered of they were going off world, a flicker of excitement sending a shiver down her spine. But then she remembered she wasn’t allowed to leave without permission. She hadn’t thought about her bracelet in so long, having gotten so used to it, but now it hung heavily on her wrist once again. 

Cassian didn’t take long, coming out of the ship with a backpack. He started striding towards the jungle, with Cora following close behind, almost running.

“Where are we going?” she asked, once they reached the edge of the forest. She still perceived the invisible line that separated the jungle from the base as a boundary and was reluctant to cross it, although she knew there was nothing stopping her. Cassian had taken her to the shooting range in the forest a couple of times during the past few days, but at the time the daylight madeit look a lot less menacing. Right now, all dark and gloomy, the forest looked downright sinister. 

“There’s too much light here,” he said, pointing to the spotlights along the landing strip. “We have to get some distance between us and the base if we want to see anything.”

Cora was more than a little apprehensive. Her anxious brain had already populated the shadows with unimaginable horrors. “Isn’t it dangerous?” she asked, sounding a little frightened.

“No, not really. Not if we’re careful. None of the more dangerous animals venture this close to the base, we make too much noise for their liking,” he explained taking a few steps into the forest. Cora reluctantly followed him, only because she didn’t want to be left alone at the edge. 

There was only a small flashlight in Cassian’s hand, and even though it emanated a pretty strong beam of light, it was not enough for it to dissipate the all encompassing darkness. Cora had expected the jungle to be silent at night, but only now did she notice the continuous buzzing of insects and screams of whatever animals populated it. A cold shiver ran down her spine. 

This feeling was new. Just like she never thought she’d feel claustrophobic until she had been imprisoned, she never once imagined she could be afraid of the dark. But if the darkness once meant the familiar, safe space the vent walls created around her, now it was the entirety of the unknown.

“Are you afraid of the dark?” Cassian asked out of the blue, twisting the flashlight and turning it into a lantern that he hung onto his belt, the once focused beam of light turning into a diffuse halo surrounding them both. Somehow, this was a little more reassuring, since she could see better around her. 

“Would you hold it against me if I said yes?” she asked, stepping closer to him. 

“No,” he said, and reached into his backpack. He pulled out a small blaster and handed it to her. Cora took it and studied it in the dim light. It was a small model, not very powerful, but it could still be deadly up close. Cora wondered if Cassian lacked any sense of self preservation. 

“Everyone is afraid of something,” he continued, and his voice was surprisingly deep.

“Even you, Captain?” she asked, holding the blaster in both hands, the muzzle pointing to the ground, right below Cassian’s feet. If she moved her hands only a few centimeters upwards it would be pointing at his head. Even with his speed, she was pretty sure he wouldn’t be able to grab his blaster from its holster and shoot her first. Two quick shots would be all it would take. She wouldn’t even have to kill him, if she just switched the blaster to stun, she’d still be able to incapacitate him long enough for her to return to base, steal his ship and leave. The flimsy bracelet on her wrist would be easy to break and get rid of, and she could be free. She could finally be free to get away from it all. Her finger hovered over the gun’s safety lock. “What are you afraid of, Captain?”

“There’s more than one type of darkness out there,” he replied, his eyes staring intensely at her. 

“That’s so philosophical,” she snickered, strapping the blaster to her belt, safety still in place. She wondered if he had noticed her hesitation and if he knew the inner battle she had fought for a moment. He probably did. She guessed it was some sort of test, otherwise why would he give her a blaster in the middle of the jungle where no one could hear her shoot. Would he have let her pull the trigger, or would he have disarmed her the moment she disengaged the safety? Was he ready to kill her or did he have enough faith that she wouldn’t try to escape? Whatever his reasoning, Cora had made her choice, and now that the moment of weakness had passed, she knew that she’d never use a weapon against him. There was a strange relief in knowing this. She hoped he knew too. 

“If Lewella had heard you speak like that you’d never hear the end of it,” Cora continued.

“Good thing she’s not here, then.”

The atmosphere had gone back to the relaxed chatter from before her moment of tension, even though Cora’s heart was still beating a million miles a minute, the adrenaline in her blood making her a little more talkative than usual. However, she was still pretty jumpy, so when she heard some leaves rustling she jumped behind Cassian, grabbing onto his coat. 

“There’s nothing to be afraid of,” he said, pointing to a small rodent like creature. “It’s harmless.”

“I’m not afraid,” she said, sounding completely terrified, looking at the retreating creature like it was about to eat her. “It’s just my self preservation instinct kicking in.”

Cassian laughed, but Cora didn’t feel like he was making fun of her, even though he had enough reasons to laugh. She was so unprepared for this trip it was funny even to herself.

“You know,” she continued, figuring that if he wasn’t going to make fun of her, she may as well do it herself, “for someone who wanted to move to a remote planet and start my own farm, I’m utterly unprepared for it. I mean,” she laughed, “I’ve never seen a goat in real life. I’m not even sure what a bantha looks like, let alone how to heard either of those.”

“You’ve never seen a goat up close?” he asked, looking at her, incredulously. 

“No? Have you seen many goats running free on imperial dreadnoughts?” Cassian laughed. “My parents never allowed pets and I never really lived in the countryside. To be honest, this jungle may be the wildest place I’ve ever been to.” It wasn’t completely true, she thought, she had trained in different places while in the stormtrooper program, but the missions were the only important thing back then. There was no time for sightseeing. It was just you and your brothers in arms, looking for something to kill, the heavy artillery close behind. 

“That’s why you wanted your own farm?” he asked, and seemed genuinely curious about it.

Cora couldn’t remember if she had ever told him about the imaginary farm she had dreamt about building for herself. “I guess,” she said. “It always felt like it’s the… not the right way to live, but the… I don’t know, the least stressful way to live. I mean I assume it’s not an easy life and I’ve never had to worry about providing my own food and starving to death, so feel free to correct me anytime, but at least this way you know for sure that you’re not responsible in any way for genocide, because you’re not a link in a system that supports mass murder.” Well it wasn’t exactly what she wanted to say, but it encompassed what she felt. 

“Do you feel responsible?”

“Yeah,” she said, and could feel her voice crack a little. “I’ve been actively and passively part of it my whole life, there’s no way I won’t feel responsible. As long as my father’s still doing what he does… there’s always going to be a part of me that feels responsible.”

“But you’re fighting the Empire right now. You’re actively trying to stop it.”

“I still don’t feel like I’m doing enough.” She sighed. “Whatever I’m doing here, compared to what my father’s doing out there, it’s just not enough to compensate.”

“You’re doing enough,” he said in a serious and encouraging tone. “We’re all doing what we can. Sometimes it’s more, sometimes it may be less, but as long as you’re doing your best it’s enough.”

Cora looked at his profile in the dim light. He was looking straight ahead, with a steely expression on his face. She wondered if this encouragement wasn’t one that he often told himself. He seemed a little down lately, even though Cora couldn’t exactly tell what was different. 

Lewella had told her a while ago to keep an eye on Cassian because whenever he was grounded for longer periods of time, especially as a punishment, he had a tendency to lose himself and become depressed. Not that you could tell on the outside, but Lew knew him well enough to accurately predict his mood swings. Since the Samarkand fiasco he was still kept mostly on base, so Cora could assume he wasn’t very happy, and in moments like this, when his voice became grave and he stared into the distance, she knew that he wasn’t quite ok. 

“Yeah, you’re right,” she said as they were nearing a clearing. In the background she could see the dark outline of one of the ziggurats that could be seen from the base, punctuating the canopy. It looked a lot bigger than she expected, but it was still much smaller than the one they used as their base. “I just hope the war will be over soon, so I can herd goats and enjoy the nature,” she said with a faint smile. “I think that maybe going to a very remote place isn’t such a good idea, but I could probably live near a small village. Become the village witch doctor.” Cassian chuckled. “By the way thanks for the ointment and the massage. Surprisingly, I think it really worked.”

Cassian looked at her with a half amused frown on his face. “Of course it worked,” he said, with conviction. “Didn’t you believe me?”

“Of course not,” she replied, speeding a little to keep up with him. “I’m a scientist, I don’t trust anything until I have tangible proof.”

“So you won’t fight me next time I’ll apply it?”

Something about that ‘next time’ really made her heart flutter. It was an unexpected sense of permanence, the idea that their relationship—however they could define it—was stable enough to allow such familiarity in the future. She smiled. 

“I can’t promise anything,” she scoffed, but the corners of her mouth were still upturned. “It stained my sheets. But I gotta give it to you, you know your shit. I have a feeling you’d do great as a witch doctor yourself.” She gave him a congratulatory pat on his back. “By the way, have you though what you’re going to do when the war ends? Assuming that we’re going to win, of course…”

“No, not really,” he said his voice trailing off.

“Oh come on,” she pressed. “You have to have a backup plan there somewhere, you can’t be Captain Andor forever,” she laughed. She didn’t think he had a real plan, she didn’t have one either. The future seemed so murky that she wasn’t sure she’d even survive the next few months. But she liked to imagine what her life could be like if everything eventually worked out, if she was allowed to live her life as she pleased. And she wanted to know what he daydreamed about, what he imagined when he couldn’t sleep, where he wanted to be in a few years, even though those were just improbable fantasy, so she pressed on.

“I don’t really think about the future,” he eventually said, a barely there note of irritation in his voice. 

“Why?” she asked, confusion written all over her face. She didn’t really think there was anyone who didn’t think about their future, at least once in a while. 

The silence continued for a few more moments and Cora was pretty sure he wouldn’t reply. Maybe he had his reasons to stay silent and, after all, who was she to demand answers to such private questions, especially when she could see the pronounced frown on his face, even in the dim light. 

“Thinking about future,” he eventually said, “can make you hopeful.” There was an emptiness in his tone that Cora couldn’t ignore. And an almost imperceptible tinge of sadness.

“And that’s such a bad thing?” she asked, eyeing him sideways. 

“It can make some things harder,” he replied, not looking at her.

“Like?” she asked, still not understanding. She lived under the impression that the hope for a better future was the only thing that kept them going. 

“Do you know what this is?” he asked, tapping his personal identifier transponder with two fingers.

Cora opened her mouth to reply, but then it hit her that he wasn’t referring to the transponder but to what was hidden underneath. A cold shiver ran down her spine and she was sure her face lost all colour. For once, she was thankful for the dim light, so he wouldn’t notice the change.

“Suicide pill,” she eventually mumbled, her voice faltering. The eerie sound of the jungle seemed a lot stronger now that they had stopped chatting. Their steps were just muffled thuds on the soft floor of the jungle, getting lost in the cacophony of noises and making her feel completely out of place. 

“We call it ‘Lullaby’,” he said with a crooked smile that never reached his eyes the sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach grew exponentially. 

“That’s a terrible name,” she said, frowning. She’d heard the name before, but never made the connection. She was also aware that suicide pills existed, and that the intelligence department had them, but only now did it hit her what the reality of what having one really meant. That you had to be mentally prepared to take your own life, if needed. 

Only now did it hit her that in all the time she knew him, Cassian had been ready to die. 

“I think it’s a good name. It helps you sleep better,” he said with a snicker, seemingly amused by his own joke.

Cora looked at him with a worried expression on her face, one that she was sure he noticed even in the darkness that surrounded them, because he started chuckling.

“It was a joke,” he said, trying to sound apologetic.

“A very bad one,” Cora concluded, punching him in the arm, with the vigour of a withered plant. She was sure it wasn’t completely a joke, there was at least a grain of truth there, but she played along. She really didn’t want to open the flood gates, because she really didn’t know how to handle it. She wasn’t sure she wanted to talk about death and resolve in the middle of a jungle.

“That’s how you punch?” he asked, laughing at her pathetic attempt. “I should have trained you harder.”

“No please, no! Don’t want to think about training sessions for a while,” she said, throwing her hands in the air defensively, with an ounce of panic in her voice. “Why are we here, anyway?” she asked, abruptly changing the subject, fearing that thinking about the assessment for even a second would flood her with panic. 

They were looking at the base of one of the ziggurats. This one was a lot smaller than their base, but it was still towering over them, dark and menacing, looking like it wanted to puncture the sky. The structure was slimmer and quite abrupt, more like an obelisk than a temple. 

“We’re going to climb that,” Cassian announced in a rather cheery voice, placing his hands on his hips, looking up at the tower.

Cora looked at him, really looked at him for a moment, wondering if it was worth the punishment if she took out the blaster and shot him now. “You said there wouldn’t be a workout today,” she said, accusingly, trying to poke a hole into his head with her glare. 

“It’s not a workout,” he shrugged, innocently enough.

“If it involves stairs, it is for me,” Cora concluded, crossing her arms. “I want to be able to use my legs tomorrow.”

“You shouldn’t be so out of shape anymore…” he tried again, but Cora only puffed in response. Cassian seemed to lose his enthusiasm for half a second, and looked around. “We could stay on the ground,” he said a little disheartened, “but I don’t think we’re gonna see anything from here. Not through the treetops.”

Cora looked up. The darkness seemed so dense when they left the base, but it seemed her eyes had gotten used to the absence of light, because now she could clearly see patches of the starry sky poking through little gaps in the foliage. The sky was clear, she finally realized. She had spent so much time thinking about the assessment that she had completely forgotten to look up the past few days. A new feeling of exhilaration took over, when she realized that he probably wanted to show her the stars.

“No, let’s go up,” she said, a smile spreading over her face. Cassian's features also softened, the concerned frown turning into an amused smirk. “But”, she said, and her tone was harsher this time, as she shoved an index finger in his face, “my legs are your responsibility. If they hurt tomorrow, or the day after, or any other day, to be precise, I expect a massage. And not the painful kind. Slow, relaxing, sensual, rose oil and all. And a foot rub.”

“Ok,” he laughed, shrugging his shoulders.

“Don’t forget that you agreed to this, I don’t want to hear you complain about it tomorrow.”

“I won’t, don’t worry.”

She didn’t worry. She knew him well enough to know that if he agreed to something he would do it (unless it regarded his own health, where he was known to break multiple promises).

She followed him to the base of the ziggurat. Here no one had cleared the jungle, so there was vegetation growing right up to the building. Cassian lead the way showing her what paths to take. The slope was pretty steep, but there were stairs going up. However, the weather and who knew what else had eroded them in some places so they had to hoist themselves up from one platform to another. 

Cassian had let her go first with the lantern fastened to her belt, lighting the way. From time to time she’d have to climb onto his hands to reach higher places. Occasionally, his hands would be on her ass, pushing her upward. 

“Is this,” she said between hitched breaths after they both managed to pass one rather annoying gap in the stairs, “is this just a pretext to grope my ass?”

“Do I need a pretext to grope your ass?” he asked, his breathing visibly less laboured than hers. 

“No you don’t, but don’t let that get to you head,” she said, collapsing on the stone, trying to catch her breath. “Is there still a lot to go?” she asked, exhaustion clear in her voice.

Cassian looked around for a few moments, assessing the situation. They were a few meters above the treetops, the base clearly visible in the distance, a tower of lights in the sea of darkness.

“No, I think we’re good,” he said, taking a seat on the stone, next to her. 

Cora was already so absorbed in the view around her that she didn’t reply. The sky was bigger than she had ever seen it since Yavin 4 had become her home. She had gotten so used to the grey skies that she usually didn’t even look up anymore. But tonight it was different, the sky dusted with myriad of glimmering stars, a view she hadn’t seen in ages. Cassian had been right, on their well lit base she couldn’t have possibly enjoyed such a view. It almost felt like the stars surrounded her like they did when she was living on a ship.

“Oh! Is that…?” she asked, pointing towards a trail of light that suddenly crossed the sky.

“Yeah, it’s a shooting star,” Cassian explained. “There’s a meteor shower every few months, but usually the sky is much too overcast to be able to see them. I guess today is out lucky day.”

“I’ve never seen shooting stars before,” she said, completely in awe.

“Really? Then it’s a good thing I dragged you here today.”

Cora looked at him, her heart full of gratitude, while Cassian was digging into his backpack. 

“Thank you,” she said, “for dragging me here.”

“You’re welcome!” He smiled. “I thought you needed some time to unwind after this stressful week. It would have been nicer tomorrow, but you said you’re working the night shift and they’re sending me back off world the day after.”

Her heart sunk at the news. She never expected him to stay on base forever, but truth be told she had gotten so used to seeing him every day that the thought of his imminent absence hurt. Not only was he going to be away for days, but she had no way of knowing where he was, if he was ok and if he was ever going to come back. She realized, however, that she had no right to feel hurt by this, it was his job and she had to accept it. 

“So Captain Andor is back in business?” she joked, trying her best to hide the sadness in her voice. 

“Yeah, it’s about time,” he said, and his voice sounded relieved. Cora suspected he was getting bored out of his mind doing only training and paperwork all day, but a selfish part of her didn’t want him to go. “Melshi sends you these,” he said handing her a box and a few bottles that he had fished from his backpack. “He said he picked them up just for you when he was on his last mission.”

Cora took the box and a huge grin spread over her face once she brought it into the light and recognized the packaging. “I haven’t seen this since I was a kid!” she laughed, and pushed it towards Cassian. “Do know them?”

“No, sorry. Spent my childhood in a cave, remember?”

“You don’t mean that literally, do you?” she asked, raising an eyebrow and struggling to open the box.

Cassian laughed. “Also literally. Sometimes.”

“You gotta tell me one day all about your childhood. I have a feeling it was a lot more eventful than mine.” Cassian smiled bitterly, and Cora wondered if she had made a mistake bringing that up. “It’s candy,” she said showing him the contents of the newly opened box. It was full of colourful swirls made of something soft and foamy, tasting sweet and fruity. “You also get a toy with it. Everyone loved them when I was a kid. It was the first thing I would ask for every time we’d land on Coruscant.” She remembered getting all excited about the toy inside. “I didn’t know they were still making them.” Then again, she realized that she didn’t know much about the real world ever since she had joined the military. “Let’s see what we’ve got.”

She popped a candy in her mouth than fished out the toy wrapped in another colourful packaging. She struggled to open that for a little bit before giving up and ripping it open with her teeth, to Cassian’s amusement. She pulled out a small trooper, about the size of her palm.

“RC_1207,” she read on the back of the figurine. “Delta07. Doesn’t ring a bell,” she said, bringing it closer to the light, looking at the details. Back in her days most toys were spaceships. She had quite an impressive collection.

“Clone commando. Part of Delta Squad. They fought in the clone wars,” Cassian explained.

“I have a feeling I should know this, but to my defense, I slept during the military history classes.” 

Cassian snorted. “How did you pass?”

“It’s a mystery to me too.”

They talked a little about their military background, eating candy and sipping the fizzy, slightly alcoholic drink Melshi had sent them. It was something Cassian had interrogated Cora about a long time ago, but this time it was different, it was a conversation between two people who had lived most of their life in the military. This time she got to ask questions too. 

Although she had more formal training than him, he had a lot more combat experience, both in the regular army and special units, which came as no surprise. However, for whatever he lacked in formal training, he made up by self studying. Cora was surprised at how much theoretical knowledge he had picked up just by reading books in his free time and listening to the older officers. For Cora this level of commitment was impressive, seeing as she had never considered opening a military book by her own volition. But then again, that’s why he was an intelligence captain and she was in the military by accident.

At one point Cassian had laid back on the stone, one arm bent under his head, watching the starry sky. Cora had turned off the light and laid next to him, nestling into his side, leeching on his warmth. The conversation had naturally died down, so they just laid there in silence for a while, watching the sky. After about 37 shooting stars she had lost count, so she just enjoyed the peacefulness of the moment. From up there, no one could tell there was a war tearing the galaxy apart. 

“You know, if we survive this war,” she said after a while, propping herself up to look at Cassian. Only after she said it she realized how heavy that ‘if’ felt. “If we survive this war, you’ll always have a place on my currently imaginary farm.” 

Cassian turned his head slightly to look at her. There was much too dark for her to be able to read his expression. “Really?”

“Of course! I mean,” she laughed, “I can’t cook and I’ve never seen a real live goat in my life, so I’m pretty sure I’ll need your help. Someone has to shovel the manure,” she added in a dead serious tone and Cassian chuckled.

She might have made it sound like a joke, but the truth was that she wanted him to come with her. She could see herself spending the rest of her life with him on a remote farm on a planet where no one knew and feared her name. Where he didn’t have to fight anymore. Where they could spend every night watching the stars and not fear whatever the next day would bring.

“You’d really make me shovel shit?” he asked, putting an arm around her shoulders and bringing her closer to his chest.

“Yep. It’s payback. For kidnapping me.”

“I’m never gonna live that down, right?”

“Nope,” she said, laying her head on his shoulder, listening to his rhythmic heartbeat.

“Thanks,” he whispered after a few moments of silence, placing a soft kiss on her forehead. 

“You’ll always be welcome, no matter where I’ll actually end up.”

She closed her eyes and sighed, content. Suddenly the stars didn’t matter and neither did the assessment, the war, or anything besides the man laying next to her.

 

*

 

“You passed,” said the officer, handing her a piece of paper, the proof that she was now officially allowed to take part in missions. “You did a good job. You really worried for nothing, Doc.”

Cora laughed. “I guess I was used to a different kind of skill assessment.”

“Well, you’re not DA anymore, you’re a doctor,” he reminded her, patting her on the back as they walked back to the main building. “You only need to be able to take care of yourself in case we’ll need your help in the field. You’ll be replacing Doctor Crane as an emergency field doctor, since we can’t risk sending him into battle anymore. Even so, you’re not expected to take part in more than a few missions a year.”

“That’s not so bad,” Cora concluded. She was pretty sure she could survive a few missions, especially if the only requirement was actually surviving. “Thank you, officer,” she said as they reached the ground level med bay. 

“Just remember to keep in shape,” he said, before taking his leave, “and be ready for action at all times.” 

Cora laughed wondering if he knew that the only reason she had passed the assignment was because she had been beaten into shape by Cassian in less than two weeks. She wondered what he was up to and if she could drop by to tell him the good news. She’ll have to ask around, Doctor Crane had to know something.

“SO?” Lewella yelled the moment she saw her entering the med bay. “Are we drinking cause you aced it or are we drinking cause you failed?”

“I’m so sorry,” Cora said, sighing dramatically, “but you’ll have to bring your happy face.”

“YESS!” she yelled, grabbing her into a bear hug, that Cora gladly returned. “I told you you’re mental. You just keep worrying about shit. I’ve told you if you weren’t ready Cassian would have done something to delay it. You know, being his girlfriend has its perks.” She sighed relieved. “I’m so proud of you.”

“I’m not his girlfriend,” Cora mumbled, her face scrunching into a frown. 

“What are you then?” Lewella raised a perfectly shaped eyebrow.

“I don’t know,” she shrugged, following Lewella around as she was ordering things around the med bay. Luckily for her, there was no one there to witness their conversation. “But girlfriend sounds like something official. And I don’t know, involves going on dates or something… while we… just...”

Cora had no idea how to explain it, not even to herself. If a while ago she could have said that it’s just fucking and nothing more, now she was certain that it wasn’t just that. It was also the stolen kisses in empty corridors, the shared meals and the short moments they spent chatting every day. 

“Bullshit. You’ve been going on dates. Just last night you’ve been seen nonchalantly strolling into the jungle together. In plain sight. Don’t try to deny it,”

Cora blushed furiously. She realized hadn’t even thought about the possibility of someone seeing them, let alone do something to conceal their departure. She had been so used to meeting Cassian on the training grounds that she completely disregarded the fact that maybe their meetings could be interpreted as something else.

“That wasn’t a date,” Cora denied.

“No?” Lewella’s eyes narrowed.

“No!”

“What was it then?” Lewella asked, hands placed on her hips, eyes intently fixed on Cora’s increasingly reddening face. “And don’t tell me some bullshit like ‘surveying the jungle life forms’ unless that’s a euphemism for fucking in the forest.”

“No, it wasn’t a date,” she still denied. “He just wanted to show me the shooting stars…”

“Mhm.”

“...and you can’t see them from the base because of the lights…”

“Mhm.”

“...so we had to leave. And then we climbed the ziggurat, and he gave me some candy Melshi found for me…”

“Mhm.”

“...and we had some drinks…”

“And then you kissed under the starlight.”

“Basically. Ok you know what,” Cora said, laughing to hide her embarrassment, “you may be right. However, I do think that for it to count as a date I should have been warned beforehand.”

“It counts,” Lewella said, throwing her a friendly death glare. 

Cora opened her mouth to protest, but changed her mind with a sigh. “I’m sorry. I guess it’s just a little confusing for me.”

“Love is confusing in general,” her friend said, with a sympathetic smile, “and Cassian is a complicated human being. You’ll see that things aren’t very black and white when it comes to him. However, I know he’s serious about you, so there’s nothing to worry about there.”

“How do you know that?” Cora asked, suddenly interested in this conversation.

“Well, first of all, you’re my friend and I told him that if he hurts you I’m gonna kick his ass…”

“Wait! You told him you know?” Cora asked with a grimace. “You talked about this?”

“Blame Melshi. Blame it all on Melshi. But that’s beside the point.” She waved her hand dismissively. “Anyway, Cassian’s let people see you leave together. There’s no way he didn’t know that people would be watching and what they’d make of it. So you know he doesn’t treat it like a secret affair.”

“Do you think he did it on purpose?”

“No. He’s not one to try to make a spectacle out of it. But if he didn’t want to be seen, he’d make sure no one saw anything. He’s a spy after all, it’s what he’s good at.” Cora nodded in agreement before she realized she was doing it. “No, I just think he just doesn’t give a shit if people know or not. He’s not trying to hide it.”

“I thought he didn’t like people talking about him.”

“He doesn’t. But at the same time he just doesn’t care if they do. They’ll get used to it and stop talking about it eventually.”

Cora took a few seconds to imagine what it would mean for people to know about their relationship. Honestly, she had no idea what to expect. This was all new for her and it made her feel a little overwhelmed.

“Hopefully no one will,” she sighed.

“Ehhh… they’re already talking.”

“Oh no.”

“It’s not bad. I mean, Aidan is sulking, but Alara is pretty excited about it.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, she kept asking me about it this morning when she left her shift. She accused me of knowing and not telling her anything.”

“And you said…?”

“‘Oh no! What a surprise! I did not know they’ve been dancing around each other since they stopped trying to claw their eyes out. What a shock!”

“You’re a dick.”

“Big one.” She laughed. “But seriously, I just told her that as far as I know you guys are good friends and unless either of you confirm it or you start sucking each others faces in front of the Great Assembly, it’s still just rumours.”

Cora groaned leaning on a consultation table. “And I was actually in such a good mood.” She hid her face in her palms, wanting to just vanish off the face of the planet. 

“And why would that change?” Lewella asked, looking at Cora over her shoulder. “Hey, stop that,” she said, prying the hands off her face. “Again, you’re making a big deal out of nothing. There will be some whispers, some giggling, but that’s it. No one cares. Plus everyone likes you so probably most of it will be pretty positive. Relax. Go eat something and then sleep, and we’ll talk tomorrow.”

“I can’t, I have to go back to work,” she said straightening her posture. 

“You have the day off,” Lewella said, deadpan. 

“No, Doc Crane is filling in for me.”

“Which means you have a day off. And the night shift has already been covered, so relax for a second.”

“Which means I have to see if there’s nothing that requires my attention,” she stubbornly continued. “Do you have any idea where I could find Cassian?”

“You miss him already?” Cora shot her an icy glare in response. “Haven’t seen him today. Ask around.”

“Alright, thanks. I’m gonna go up and see if Doc needs any help.”

“And then go eat and sleep.”

“Bye, Lewella!”

As she walked to the other med bay Cora was hyper aware of any laughter or whisper or odd look, but as far as she could tell, none were directed her way. Maybe the rumours hadn’t yet spread that far, or Lewella was right and no one cared. She felt relieved when she reached the familiar space, where she knew she would face no judgement.

Doctor Crane was in a really good mood when he congratulated her, giving her a warm hug and a pat on the back, together with the ‘told you there was nothing to be worried about’ that seemed to be following her around. 

“Someone left a parcel for you,” he said, smiling knowingly and handing her a small plastic container with a note attached to it. 

‘Congrats on passing your assessment!’ read the note, written in a small and slightly uneven writing, like they weren’t that keen on calligraphy. ‘Things have sped up a little and I’ll probably have to leave before you come back, but I already know you did a great job. Sorry for not being able to see you before I go, but there was nothing I could do to delay our departure. Take care and don’t overwork yourself while I’m away. I’ll see you when I come back. I got you something from the kitchen on my way up, hope you like it. I didn’t make it, but it’s from Dony’s personal stash, so it should be good. C.’

Cora was smiling like an idiot as she opened the box to reveal a several pastries that looked fresh and smelled really good. 

“When did this arrive?” she asked the doc.

“Right after you left for the assessment. He dropped it off before being sent off world.”

“It says congratulations. Was there one in case I failed?” she asked, reading the note again.

“No.”

So he had absolutely no doubt that she’d pass it. Which was dangerous in her opinion, because she could always accidentally shoot someone and get executed for it, but the fact that he trusted her even when she didn’t made her giddy. It almost covered the sadness brought by the fact that he had left a day early and she didn’t get to say goodbye. 

Fuck it, Cora, she told herself. It’s not like he’s never coming back and when he does, you’ll be getting some really great congratulatory sex. You’ve earned it. And he’s earned it too. She smiled and bit into a pastry. 

“Want some pastry, Doc?” she said, pushing the box in front of him.

“I shouldn’t,” he said, rubbing his hands, but Cora could tell by his eyes that he really craved them. “Oh, why not,” he gave up and chose a sweet one, covered in icing.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks a lot for reading, I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it! I am slow at writing so I don't know when the next chapters will be up, hopefully this century.


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